


Aquatic Love

by Wordsplat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avengers still exist, F/M, M/M, Steve's just a merman, only a little though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsplat/pseuds/Wordsplat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is a recently acquired merman on display in the Atlantis Marine World Aquarium, and Tony is absolutely smitten. What's a few late night break-ins in the name of true love, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Seriously, I don't want to go to some stupid aquarium," Tony grumbled as Pepper adjusted his tie, "I don't care how 'special' they think their new acquirement is."

"You're going, Tony."

"Why, so I can pretend to fawn over a rainbow-colored shark or some other bullshit? I don't even like fish," Tony complained, "They smell gross."

"You had sushi for dinner last night."

"Well, are they  _serving_ me this rainbow-colored shark? Because in that case-"

"No sushi jokes," Pepper cinched his tie, pulling it dangerously close to choking level, "They will not appreciate them, and it will only cause me trouble."

"Got it," Tony wheezed, "Nix the sushi jokes."

"I don't see why you're making such a fuss," Pepper released her grip, "The others will be there too. Complain all you want, I know you like them."

'Like' was a funny word. True, Tony did appreciate their help saving the world from time to time, but it's not like he and the other so-called Avengers were friends or anything. They never saw each other outside of saving the world, and even then, things were tense. They didn't have a glue, anything that really connected them to one another; they were all sort of lone rangers, not really used to working together. They had no leader, just Coulson-the unkillable bastard had lived and the one-eyed asshole had lied, of course-calling out locations and problem areas through the com link and Hawkeye making comments about strays and patterns he noticed.

After the New York Thing, the Avengers had gone their separate ways. Fury had given them two months off the radar, and had meant to give them six; then some Dr. Doom lunatic had launched an attack on the city and they'd been called to reform the team. They did save the world, and had been doing so since, but their teamwork was sloppy at best. They worked when they needed to, when the world was resting on their shoulders, but they lacked anything sort of organization or leadership. They were all too independent in one way or another. Bruce could be found running around Tony's R&D candyland every once in a while, but even they never actually hung out much.

This was going to be the Avengers first public appearance as a team, a whole four months after the New York Thing, and it was going to be weird. It was going to be weird, because even though they were showing up and presenting themselves to the world as a team, they really weren't one. They rarely saw each other, they bickered when they did, and only worked together when the people were going to die if they didn't. Every once in a while the world needed them, they suited up, saved the day, caught a bite to eat, then they went their separate ways. That was it.

But, hey, day in the life of a superhero, right?

"I barely know them," Tony grouched to Pepper, but there was no real bite to his words.

"Maybe. But they're good for you. You try to go it alone too often, it's good that you have backup," Pepper nodded at last, dusting off the shoulders of his suit, "There. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That's all, Miss Potts," Tony replied somewhat cheekily.

They'd tried the relationship thing, and it hadn't worked. Pepper didn't have it in her to just sit around and watch him fly off to what might be his death. She'd told him she could be his boss and run interference with the company and mange his heroics, or she could be there for him as a girlfriend, but that she didn't have the heart to keep doing both.

For the briefest of moments, he'd considered retaking control of StarkIndustries. He could almost see his life like that, like it had been; balancing CEO responsibilities and Iron Man missions, with Pepper there by his side. The key word, however, was almost. More than a moment's thought told him it wasn't the life he wanted, and a glance to Pepper told him it wasn't the life she wanted, either. They'd broken up, clean and simple. They just didn't work together as a couple, and Tony found he was okay with that. There had been a few weeks where things had been a little shaky, a little awkward between them. But she was still his boss, and after a few weeks, his friend again too.

Tony spent the ride out to Long Island complaining to Happy, who took it in stride. The gala was being held someplace called Atlantis Marine World, out east of New York City. They had some special new exhibit that would "open your eyes to the magic still left in the world", or some other bullshit, and had invited the Avengers to the opening. Fury had decided they'd turned down enough invitations lately, that it was time to boost their public approval.

Thus.

Tony met up with the others once he got there, shaking hands with Natasha and Coulson, exchanging good-natured insults with Clint, accepting Thor's bone-breaking hug, good-naturedly poking Bruce once or twice before giving the guy a friendly hug as well. They dispersed and mingled for a half hour or so before they were all ushered towards where the new exhibit was going to be presented.

 _Atlantis: A Brave New World_ was the wavering banner, and underneath it was a large, covered tank. It was larger than any even Tony had seen, and he was quite the master of extravagance. The lid of the tank was something like reinforced steel, and Tony had to wonder what the hell they could be trying to keep in there.

Someone came up to the podium to speak, rattling off some speech about the miracles the world still had to offer, all the scientific discoveries that were yet to be made, and how they hoped that this new exhibit would inspire a more fantastical set of mind. Tony zoned out for a while, only catches bits and pieces of it, but the moment they pulled back the large cloth draping the tank, Tony's breath caught in his chest. The tank itself was wonderfully landscaped, filled with rocky ruins, a vibrant coral reef, and plenty of brightly colored fish, but that wasn't what had Tony Stark speechless.

What had Tony Stark speechless was the, for lack of a better word,  _merman._

He was…gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. His face was open and honest, with a chiseled jaw and soft blonde hair. His body was like that of a Greek god, impossibly toned and utterly perfect. He swam forward, his sculpted arms jettisoning him through the water and to the front of the tank in two clean, easy strokes. His tail flickered behind him, clear fins ribboning, cerulean scales shimmering over what was clearly muscle. He examined them all cautiously, bright blue eyes that matched his scales blinking curiously. He locked eyes with Tony, and Tony's world stopped spinning completely.

For a moment, they were the only two people in the room. Tony almost stopped breathing as the merman's eyes searched his, and he could feel his arc reactor racing, spinning faster and brighter than before to keep up with his racing pulse. He could almost imagine his heart, his real heart, the one most people seemed to forget he had, crawling up out of his chest and running away with the merman forever. Or maybe he could just take the merman and run away. He could do that.

 _Oh yes,_ Tony thought absently, pushing through the crowd as if led by an invisible force,  _I could definitely do that._

Then someone bumped into him roughly, and Tony was jostled enough to lose eye contact for just a moment. With that, the merman was gone, nothing but a trail of bubbles in his wake as he swam off into a rocky castle structure and disappeared.

The audience was…less than impressed.

"That's interesting, I suppose."

"Pretty tail."

"Mutant sharks invaded last week, do you think it's related?"

"Maybe one of the Isgardians brought it with them?"

"Isgard? Isn't it Ozgard?"

People continued talking behind him, but Tony didn't hear them. He was too busy pushing forward, pressing his way through the crowd until he was at the very front, up against the glass. He couldn't see the merman anywhere, and he resisted the strangely strong urge to knock on the glass. Okay, so maybe now that he'd had a moment to think about it, stealing the merman and running away wasn't such a good plan, but…

Still. He had to do something.

"Thor, you didn't tell me you had mermaids on Asgard," Clint commented, elbowing the large god.

"I have never seen such a creature. Though I believe a more proper term would be merman, would it not? The creature did not seem to be a maiden."

"No, he didn't," Tony murmured, "Have you ever seen anything like him?"

"Not in my time," Thor shook his head, and Clint laughed.

"Hell, the way our lives go? His relatives'll be invading next week looking for him. Best get ready, I'd bet money on it."

"No," the word slipped out before Tony could think about it, "They can't have him."

"Aw, got a little undersea crush there, Stark?" Clint teased.

"Kinky," Natasha commented dryly, joining the group, "Though I'm not entirely sure if it's even possible."

"Shut up, I do not," Tony huffed, "I just think he's…gorgeous, is all."

"From what I saw before he swam off, he did seem to be," Natasha shrugged in general agreement.

"I agree," Bruce joined them as well, rubbing a thumb over his other hand like he did when he had an idea, "And I must admit I'd love a peek at his DNA."

"That settles it then, I'm buying him," Tony declared, grateful for an easy excuse.

"You really think they'll let you just waltz in and buy their brand new exhibit?" Natasha raised a doubting eyebrow at Tony, who just laughed.

"Now, when have I ever not been able to buy what I wanted?"

* * *

Tony wasn't able to buy what he wanted, and he was pissed.

"But Coulsooon!" Tony whined as the agent steered him away from the curator's office, "You don't get it! I need him!"

"Does this have anything to do with why I heard Agent Romanov telling someone you had a fish fetish earlier?" Coulson's eyes narrowed, then he shuddered, "I take it back, I don't want to know."

"It's not a  _fetish,"_ Tony huffed, "And I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sure you didn't," Coulson just rolled his eyes, "Look, I don't want to hear anything more about this, you hear me Stark? Let them have their exhibit, we don't need any more 'eccentric billionaire superhero flaunts riches' headlines."

"Okay, so maybe I didn't really  _need_ that statue, but-"

"It was a public monument, Tony."

"And see, you're right, I admit that. I see the error of my ways, I do. But I  _need_ him-"

"If I let you buy him, the press will just have a field day turning it into some sort of sordid, kinky sex scandal."

"No, c'mon, you know I haven't had one of those since my crazy twenties, I'm all mature and shit now."

Coulson fixed him with a knowing glare.

"Alright, jeez, maybe it was a couple months ago, but I'm done now, really! Reformed and all that."

"You're going to kill me, Tony."

"Is that a yes?"

"No."

"No that's not a yes?"

" _You are not buying the merman._ "

"Well, now you're just being rude."

Coulson refused to budge, and for a day or so Tony managed to put the merman to the back of his mind, though never for long. After three days, he couldn't manage to think about anything else; every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the merman, the shimmer of his scales, the cut of his muscles, the open, earnest look in his eyes…

Okay, he couldn't take it anymore.

Under the cover of darkness, Tony hopped in his favorite Maserati and plugged 'Atlantis Marine World' into the GPS. A couple of broken speeding laws later, Tony was pulling to a screeching halt in the aquarium's abandoned parking lot. Tony hacked his way into the system-which, for the record, was insultingly easy-and let himself into the building. The lights came on as he walked, and by the time he reached the exhibit, the merman had clearly heard someone coming and disappeared again. Tony walked up anyway, pressing a hand to the glass gently.

"Hey there," Tony murmured, and though his voice was quiet, it echoed in the empty room, "Remember me?"

There was silence a long moment, before a blonde head cautiously peeked out from behind the rocks. Ten minutes ago, Tony would have sworn up and down that on opening day, the merman had looked straight at him and that they had a real connection…but now he was hesitating. Had he been imagining things?

"I wasn't going to come," Tony confessed, "I mean, I was actually flat out instructed not to, but I never really took orders very well anyway, and I couldn't stop thinking about you, so I just…hopped in the car and came. On a whim, really. And I know how silly that all sounds, and I'm pretty sure this is vaguely illegal, but I just…I couldn't get you out of my head. I'm sure you don't even remember me, probably didn't even see me that night, I just had to-"

In a shimmery flash, the merman was up by glass with him, placing his hand against Tony's, a concerned look on his face. He was trying to tell Tony something with those wide eyes of his, and Tony made a hopeful guess.

"You…you remember me?"

The merman nodded, a giddy, wide smile breaking out across his face.

 _God_ he was gorgeous.

"You can hear me, then?" Tony couldn't help but mimic the his infectious smile, and the merman nodded, the gills on his neck flickering happily, "Interesting. Do you have any way to talk?"

The merman's smile faltered, and he suddenly looked disheartened. Tony regretting saying anything at all.

"No, hey, you don't have to, I don't mind," Tony backtracked, "I mean, I talk way too much anyway, more than enough for two people. Merpeople? Are you a merman? Or do you prefer siren or something? I'm not really sure what the correct phrasing here is, I don't want to offend you or anything, I really wish I knew your name, that would be so much easier than thinking of you as 'the merman', though really, it's not like I know any other mermen, so it sort of works I guess, but-"

The merman's lips quirked at Tony's incessant rambling, and he flicked his tail to the small sign in the corner.

_Gill, Homo Pesci_ _._

" _Gill?"_ Tony snorted, then quickly covered his mouth, "Sorry. Is that your actual name, or…?"

The merman snorted back at him, a raised eyebrow expressing exactly how he felt about the name he'd been given.

"Okay, good, because I'm sorry, but that is ridiculous."

The merman gave him an appreciative smile, clearly grateful someone shared his opinion. Tony clapped his hands together, an idea coming to him.

"Do you know the same alphabet we do, the whole 'A, B, C' shtick?"

The merman nodded hesitantly, waving a hand as if to tell Tony to run through the whole thing to he could make sure. Tony obliged, all the way through to Z, and the merman nodded more assuredly.

"You wanna spell your name out for me then, 'Gill'?" Tony tapped on the glass with a grin.

The merman's eyes widened and he beamed excitedly, shaking his head a little as if to ask himself why he hadn't thought of that.

"Hate to brag, but I _am_  a genius," Tony winked, and the merman just smiled and very, very carefully wrote on the glass.

_S. T. E. V. E. N._

"Steven," Tony smiled softly, "Old-fashioned. I like it."

Steven looked ready to burst with happiness, and he made a waving sort of hand gesture at Tony.

"Me?"

Steven nodded with a roll of his eyes as if to say, well, yes. Duh.

"Oh. I never told you my name, did I?" Tony realized with a laugh, then, declared, "Just call me…Mystery!"

Tony wiggled his fingers at the tank, doing his best super villain voice. Steven just chuckled, biting his lip to keep from laughing at Tony's dramatics.

"Hey, I'm mysterious," Tony huffed, in spite of the small smile that wouldn't leave his face, "I'm super mysterious. I'm the most mysterious mystery there ever was."

Steven just gave him a skeptical smile.

"Well. Have it your way, then, call me Tony," Tony shrugged, and Steven gave him an appreciative smile, "I still think Mystery is better. Actually, if you ask the press, Disaster might be more appropriate."

Steven raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm Tony Stark, I, uh…my father was a weapons contractor, and he built this huge business, StarkIndustries. And I know that makes it sound like I'm spoiled or something, and, okay, I kind of am, but it wasn't all fun and games, y'know? Sure, I grew up in a mansion and all that, but my parents didn't really…they didn't really have much time for me when I was a kid, and then they died, so…"

Steven's eyes went soft, clearly telling him he didn't have to say any more if he didn't want to. It was for perhaps that reason Tony didn't mind.

"It's fine," Tony waved him off, "Talking to you is…it's fine. They uh, they died when I was 17, car accident. When I turned 21 I became CEO of the company for a while, then someone tried to kill me. They almost did," Tony tapped his arc reactor, "But I built this and the Iron Man suit, and it saved my life. I gave up being boss, now it's my friend Pepper who runs the company and I just put in the brain power. I'm too busy with the Avengers, anyway."

Steven quirked his head in question.

"The Avengers?"

Steven nodded.

"They're my…well, they're sort of my friends. I don't really have a whole lot of those, so that's nice. Growing up rich and famous isn't really all it's cracked up to be, y'know? Most friends you make are on your payroll. Anyway," Tony shook the thought off, "They're great. You probably caught a glimpse of them at the opening? Clint Barton's the idiot with short blonde hair, Natasha Romanov's the dangerously gorgeous woman with hair like fire, and they're both master assassins."

Steven's face looked mighty impressed, and Tony grinned.

"I know, right? In the field, Clint goes by Hawkeye cause he's freakishly good with arrows, and Natasha goes by Black Widow cause she's deadly as sin. The scientist-looking guy with curly black hair and glasses? That's Dr. Bruce Banner. He was exposed to too much gamma radiation, so now he turns into this giant green rage monster of destruction when you piss him off, which, considering his life? Isn't exactly hard to do. Then there's Thor, the Norwegian looking guy with blonde hair past his shoulders. He's a god. No, seriously. God of thunder, Thor Odinson, kid you not. Got the giant hammer and everything, and let me tell you,  _man_ does that guy love his hammer."

Tony talked more about the Avengers for a while, which seemed to fascinate Steven. He told Steven all about his Iron Man armor about all the things it could do, and Steven went to the trouble to write out  _bring it next time_ on the glass which made Tony smile, because he couldn't help but love the fact that that meant there would be a next time. He talked about what the outside world was like, about electricity and cars and the craziness of New York City. He asked Steven questions too, but they couldn't have much conversation that way since Steven's answers were limited by how long it took him to write them out. Through mostly guesswork with Steven answering yes or no, Tony learned that Steven had been taken from his home, captured by fishermen off the coast working for the aquarium. When Tony tried to ask more about his past, Steven had started to write something longer, then shook his head and simply wrote  _too long_. When Tony had said he didn't mind at all, Steven had just smiled and wrote  _I want to hear about you._  Well, let it never be said that Tony turned down gorgeous mermen who wanted to hear him talk.

It was almost sunrise when Tony realized oh, hey, he kind of had to leave before he was caught and arrested.

"Jesus it's early," Tony shook his head, the all-nighter catching up to him in a rush, "I can't believe I talked that long, I'm so sorry."

Steven started to shake his head with a smile, but Tony kept talking.

"Really, I didn't mean to bore you or anything, if you want me to stop talking, I don't know, knock on the glass or something next time, I just…I can get pretty lonely sometimes, so it was…it was nice. Talking to you, I mean. And you're trapped in here, alone, and…that probably gets pretty lonely too, yeah?"

Steven paused briefly, then gave a small, quiet nod.

"I could…I could keep visiting you, if you wanted?"

Tony held his breath, impossibly hopeful, and he wasn't disappointed. Steven did a happy little spin in the water, before pressing both hands against the glass and nodding eagerly.

"That's a yes, then?" Tony laughed, and Steven ducked his head, an embarrassed smile on his lips and hope in his perfectly azure eyes as he looked at Tony through blonde lashes.

 _This man is going to be the end of me,_ Tony mused to himself,  _Funny, I can't really bring myself to mind._

"No need to bat your lashes at me, pretty boy, I couldn't stay away if you begged me to," Tony winked, and Steven huffed a little at the pretty boy comment, puffing up his chest, "And sticking out that gorgeous chest isn't a very good way to defy the pretty boy comment."

Steven quirked his head, mimicked tugging on a shirt, then gestured curiously to Tony, who had to admit he was caught off guard.

"What, you want me shirtless?"

Steven gestured to himself, as if to say, well, aren't you supposed to be? Then he shrugged, running a hand over his bare abs absent-mindedly, clearly unaware of the particularly wonderful things he was doing-really, had been doing all night-to certain areas of Tony's body.

"Trying to get me topless on the first date, are we? You're aware we landfolk generally keep our shirts on, yeah?" Tony made a point not to follow Steve's hand, instead watching his face. Steven looked almost confused by this new piece of information, "Yeah. All day. I know, weird, I think everyone should run around naked too, but no one listens to me. Please, feel free to never change though, I am perfectly happy having those delicious muscles of yours on permanent display."

Steven tried to shoot him a smirk, but a light blush accompanied it.

"Aw, is my irresistible charm getting to you, Gills?" Tony grinned, and Steven just huffed at the nickname.

Before Tony could say any more, however, he heard a noise down the hall.

"Shit, okay, I'm definitely not supposed to be here right now," Tony started to run off, then caught sight of Steven, who was flicking his tail anxiously, swimming after Tony with confusion and worry in his eyes. His heart all but melted.

"Oh, please don't look at me like that. I'll be back," Tony murmured, keeping quiet to avoid getting caught. Then, he pressed his hand to the glass, fingers spread wide, "I promise."

Uncertainty was clear in Steven's eyes, but he pressed his own, larger hand to Tony's through the glass.

"I promise, Steven," Tony repeated once more, before sprinting off and out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony sloppily parked the Maserati and stumbled into bed at almost 6:30am, ignoring both JARVIS' snide comments about his late night activities not showing up on the internet for once and Pepper's thousandth call and hundredth text. For once in his life, he was  _tired._

Tony slept for almost nine minutes before the Avengers alarm went off.

Swearing with an enthusiasm usually reserved for eager teenagers under the influence, Tony rolled out of bed, promptly landing face first on the floor.

"JARVIS?" Tony mumbled into the carpet.

"Yes, sir?"

"Coffee. I'm going to need…a lot of coffee."

* * *

Tony quickly fell into a pattern. He went out to the aquarium each night, sleeping when he got home, and working on projects in the late afternoon, early evening. He learned the guard schedules, learned when the aquarium's last employee left each night and when the first came in the morning, coming as soon and leaving as late as he could. Steve was always ecstatic to see him, each time looking for all the world as if he had been sure Tony would never return.

He and Steve spent their nights talking endlessly, for hours and hours about absolutely everything under the sun. He told Steve about what his day was like and the projects he was working on and his favorite places in New York, and Steve told him tales of Atlantis, about how he'd grown up, what his friends Bucky and Peggy were like, even little jokes like how much better the food had been there. It was slow going at first, but Steve's writing got clearer and Tony's reading got faster and soon enough they had a working system.

They learned a lot about each other; Steve still seemed to carry a loss in him that he hadn't voiced yet, but Tony was more than willing to give him the time he needed. Steve, without even trying, got Tony talking about things he never would have thought he would have ever acknowledged out loud, things like his relationship with his parents, about his kidnapping and torture in Afghanistan, about Obie's betrayal and how it had hurt Tony. He talked about the fallout of the Avengers, how they still worked together when they had to, but how scattered and often dysfunctional they were.

He talked about Pepper and Rhodey and Happy, and how they were his friends, but that he paid them too and he could never really bring himself to stop questioning if they would be around without that. He mentioned once, in that half-joking way that meant he was saying something a little too true, that it was funny that he'd spent so much time and money trying to cure his loneliness when he should have just spent it searching for Steve instead. Steve had looked at him with such reverence then, before carefully writing out,  _I don't know what I would do without you, either._

This went on for months, until one morning, mere moments after falling asleep, Tony was awakened by the blaring Avengers alarm.

"Ughhh," Tony rolled over with a groan, "JARVIS, start the coffee, I'll be down in a minute."

"Sir, Miss Potts has informed me that she is holding your coffeemaker hostage until you speak with her about your whereabouts last night."

"Oh God why," Tony moaned.

"If I was hazarding a guess, I would say it might have something to do with your whereabouts last night."

"You know what, JARVIS? You're a sassy little bitch sometimes."

"I take after my programmer, sir."

"Fine. Pepper, then coffee. Whatever. God, I hate my life right now."

Well, okay, maybe not his life, his life  _did_ include Steve, after all-

"The rather dopey smile on your face might suggest otherwise, sir."

"I'm not smiling," Tony hastily objected, then, with a shrug, "Well, okay, but it's not a  _dopey_ smile, jeez, cut a guy some slack, I haven't slept in like four days thanks to StarkIndustries latest project taking up all my daylight hours. Come to think of it, I don't think I've eaten since even longer than that-"

"Miss Potts has asked me to inform you that she will begin dismantling the coffeemaker should your stalling continue."

"God,  _why?_ "

"I believe-"

"You are not god, JARVIS!" Tony snapped, hastily grabbing a shirt off the floor and tugging it on in a mad race out the door and down the stairs, "Don't you touch my baby, Pepper!"

"Why do you always manage to remember a shirt, and never pants?" Pepper rubbed her forehead with a sigh as Tony slid into the kitchen on his socks. At her words, he glanced down. Oh. Yeah. Well, at least he was in boxers this time; that didn't always happen.

"I'm an eccentric genius?"

"That's not always going to work, you know."

"Maybe not, but I've got a mission to get to and pants aren't really necessary under the suit. Can I drink while you talk?" Tony wasn't really asking, already pushing past Pepper to grab the perfectly brewed cup of coffee from the machine. She just sighed again, resting her elbows on the counter like she needed the support.

"Tony, where the hell were you last night?"

"Asleep?"

"Oh  _really_?" Pepper challenged, hands on her hips in an all-too dangerous way Tony instantly recognized, "So you  _didn't_  take one of the cars 'out for a spin' at 11 at night and only get back a few minutes ago?"

"Uh."

"That's what I thought," Pepper declared in smug victory.

"JARVIS, you muggle-hugging traitor," Tony shot a dirty glare skyward.

"I was not instructed to keep your comings and goings private-"

"I'm going to dismantle you someday, I swear it."

"And who then would make you your morning coffee?"

"We'll see who's laughing Mr. All My Snotty Remarks Sound Witty Just Cause I'm British, I'll reprogram you with a Texan accent one of these days, don't think I won't!"

"You wouldn't  _dare-!"_

"If I could interrupt your mildly creepy technophiliac love banter for a minute," Pepper waved a hand, clearly not as creeped out as she claimed to be, far too used to Tony's behavior, "I've told you a million times, Tony, if you're going to break the law, I need a  _warning_."

"What?" Tony choked on his coffee, blinking at Pepper widely, "How did you know I broke the law?"

"Well, I was bluffing in the vain hope you'd tell me I was wrong," Pepper pinched her nose, "But now that we've got that out in the open, what exactly did you do and how much damage should I be prepared for?"

"Okay, so it was  _vaguely_ illegal. But not even like a grey area, just more…off-white. Their security was pathetic and I erased all the video footage, so it really doesn't matter anyway-"

"Tony, we've been over this, just because you have the  _ability_  to break in doesn't make it actually  _legal_."

"Oh come on, security that ancient? They might as well have left the door unlocked!"

"Still not legal."

"Pep, I kind of have a world to save and all, can we cut to the chase here?"

"You've been seeing someone," Pepper's eyes narrowed shrewdly.

Tony felt the heat rush to his face, but with all the training of a Stark, he clamped it down.

"Don't be silly! That's, that's ridiculous, of course I'm not," Tony sputtered, because, well, he wasn't, not technically, "I mean, I see people all the time, I see you right now, but I'm not 'seeing someone', not like that, of course not, I'm Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire, remember?"

He hoped Pepper wouldn't bring up the fact that there hadn't exactly been much 'playboy-ing' at Stark Tower lately. Since, well…sometime around that stupid aquarium fundraiser, if one really felt the need to pinpoint it, but that was coincidence, of course. He'd been busy, damn it.

"I don't know why on earth it involves breaking into places," Pepper circled him now, "And I can only hope to god she's not some crazy criminal, but I can see it on your face, Tony. My god…you  _love_ her, don't you?"

"I can  _not_ deal with this right now," Tony shook her suspicious gaze off and took one last gulp of his coffee before calling his armor to him with the push of a button on his wristband, her words hitting just a little too close to home, "The world needs saving and all that jazz, let's just talk about this sometime a little after never, okay?"

"Tony," Pepper grabbed his wrist at the last moment. She paused, a range of emotions flickering through her eyes, settling at last on open honesty, "I'm happy for you. Really."

"Well," Tony ignored the flush creeping up his neck, "Pepper, really, lives to save, aliens to defeat, teammates to show up with my awe-inspiring ass-kicking powers...I've got a busy day here, y'know."

"Go," Pepper sighed with a fondness Tony found offensive. Then, of course, she shot him one last glare, "But don't you kid yourself, we  _are_  going to talk about this."

Joy.

* * *

Two hours later, beaten, bruised, and covered in giant alien squid goo, there was only one place Tony wanted to be.

It was silly, really. He should go home, no question; he should talk to Pepper, should get the gunk off his suit, should shower. And  _g_ _od_  should he sleep, because while he had stayed up for this long plenty of times before, between the lack of sleep, distinct lack of food, and the unusual amount of disasters this week, he was wearing a little thin even for him.

Didn't stop him from flying straight from the battle to the aquarium, though.

He'd never gone during the day; Coulson had made it very clear on that first day that he was not allowed, and SHIELD had a way of finding these things out. So Tony landed on the roof and slipped in through the paneling section he knew was directly over a vent that led to Steve's exhibit room instead of going through the front where people would notice him. The aquarium didn't have any cameras and there weren't any people looking at the roof from the parking lot at 10am on a Monday, so Tony figured he was probably okay.

He squirmed his way through the thankfully large vents and eventually opened a grate and dropped into the far back of the dimly lit exhibit room, going entirely unnoticed by the room's other occupants. A group of schoolchildren were pressed up against the glass, their pudgy fingers leaving little smudges on the glass as they watched Steve.

Tony took a deep breath, just the sight of Steve's shimmering scales and kind eyes enough to take the edge off his awful morning. He smiled fondly as Steve flipped circles and flitted about in the water playfully for the entranced kids. He hadn't noticed Tony, busy entertaining the kids with a happy, indulgent smile on his face. Tony wondered absently if Steve had kids-he seemed so natural with them, far more at ease than he had been with the adults at the fundraiser almost two and half months ago now.

It occurred to Tony belatedly that he hadn't even asked. Well, he sort of had. He'd told Steve that he understood and would listen if Steve ever needed to talk about the people he was surely missing. Steve hadn't said much at first, but over the weeks he'd eventually opened up, mostly about his friends Bucky and Peggy.

Now, the question consumed Tony- _did_  Steve have a family? A devoted wife and loving children, awaiting his return? Was this Peggy more than a friend; was she a lover, a wife? Even if she wasn't, Steve could still have a family, just not have been able to bring himself to talk about them yet. It stung, yes, but what stung more was how incredibly easily Tony could picture it. Of course he had people who loved him, who desperately awaited his return; how could someone as amazing as Steve not? Steve was incredibly gorgeous, charmingly funny, kind to a fault...Steve surely had a family, people he loved. Who was Tony to infringe on that happiness?

He stood to leave, suddenly unsure if he should have come at all, and Steve caught sight of him. He didn't recognize him as Tony, just as someone in the room, but the merman quirked his head in curiosity at the sight of the moving metal suit. He lost interest in the children momentarily, following the suit's movements. In a flash, the gears clearly clicked into place in his mind. Steve swam up above the kids in a rush, lighting up and pressing his hands against the glass, eager to express that he recognized the Iron Man suit Tony had told him so much about. Even if he hadn't, the kids sure did.

"Whoa!"

"Look, look, it's Iron Man!"

"You're my hero!"

"What's all the goo from?"

"It's from the octopus in Central Park, dummy!"

"Uh, squid. We think. Theoretically speaking. Technically, it's some magic-y alien thing Loki brought with him to play, so it's probably neither," Tony corrected, then sighed as he removed the helmet and ran a tired hand through his hair, "But I'm not a superhero right now. Right now I'm just a regular guy visiting a friend, and I don't want anyone else to find out. So don't tell anyone I'm here, okay? It's a secret, just between us."

The kids nodded in rapture, ecstatic that  _Iron Man_ wanted them to keep his secret.

"A friend?" one of the munchkins questioned, then, excitedly, "Y'mean Gill? D'you speak merman?"

"Yes, I'm here for him," Tony chuckled, catching sight of Steve's bright smile behind the kids, "And…not exactly. We communicate though. He understands me, he just can't talk on his own."

"How can you be friends if he can't talk?" another kid piped up.

"Trust me, I talk enough for the both of us," Tony snorted, then, in a fake stage whisper to the kids, "And it helps that he can't tell me to shut up."

Steve rapped on the glass with his knuckles once, drawing their attention as he pointedly stuck out his tongue at Tony, who just grinned. The kids giggled wildly at their antics. Tony signed a few hats and shirts and backpacks, even one kid's homework. Then he asked if he could talk to his friend alone, said he had a super secret spy mission and it was very important that no one overhear, so remember, don't tell anyone he was here. The kids nodded seriously, eyes wide as saucers as they left the room, giggling and whispering and glancing back at Tony as they left.

Steve swam up to the glass, fingers spelling out a sentence almost faster than Tony could read;  _secret spy mission, huh?_

"Of course," Tony nodded seriously, though the humor in his eyes betrayed him, "Your first mission, should you choose to accept, is to tell me how totally awesome I look in hot rod red and gold."

_Very awesome. Stealthy, too. It's as if you're invisible._

Tony laughed, then, "Fast fingers there, sparky. You've gotten better."

_I've been practicing._

Steve shrugged, but the lightest of blushes accompanied this statement.

"I've only been gone three hours," Tony teased, "You miss me?"

_You were gone?_

"Funny guy," Tony rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face sort of contradicted him.

There was a moment's pause, where Steve kept an eye on Tony, watching him as he wrote on the glass more slowly this time, almost carefully, as if he were cautious of Tony's reaction.

_I did. Miss you, I mean._

"Oh," Tony blinked, reminding himself that he was a Stark, and Stark's did not  _blush,_ thank you very much. He flashed a charming grin instead, "Don't worry, you'll be sick of me soon enough."

_Doubt that._

"Steve…" Tony paused, then, before he could stop himself, "Do you have kids? A…wife, a family?"

Steve blinked widely, almost owlishly, clearly caught completely by surprise. He furrowed his eyebrows, then shook his head, the why clear enough in his eyes without needing to be written.

"Oh. Well, it seems silly now, you just, you were so good with the kids by the tank and I just-"

_Me? They_ loved  _you!_

"That's just because they think I'm a hero," Tony waved him off, but Steve quirked his head, a movement Tony found unbearably adorable.

_Think?_

"I told you about what I do-what I did," Tony corrected himself, his eyes casting downwards to his fiddling hands, "Weapons. I created things that…that killed people. I justified it a million ways, but in the end I was still killing people, and then Obie was double-dealing which only meant more dead, practically by my own hands…" Tony shook his head, clearing his thoughts, "Iron Man isn't a hero. He's a way to right my wrongs. I don't deserve forgiveness for the things I've done, and I'll probably never get it-but as Iron Man, I have a chance to do some good, and that's…something, at least."

There was a period of silence, and Tony just stared at his hands, unwilling to see Steve's reaction to his words.

He had told Steve about StarkIndustries, that they used to manufacture weapons, but that now they stuck with general tech goodies like StarkPhones and tablets and computers, and that they were a huge name in clean energy. Tony had doubted at first that Steve could understand it all, but it seemed that Steve was either an exceptionally fast learner or already knew much of how the surface world worked, because he didn't bat an eye at phrases like 'shrapnel' and 'missiles' and 'double-dealing', things Atlantis probably didn't have. Steve never questioned these things though, and Tony could see from the look in his eyes that he understood. How was a question Tony would have to ask later. If there was a later, since he'd basically just babbled like an idiot about how he  _fucking killed people._

So much for their friendship. Way to go Tony, really, congratulations, you fucking-

There was light tap against the glass, and Tony looked up at last to see Steve giving him a softly serious look.

_Their deaths weren't your fault, Tony._

"That's…well. Untrue, but it's nice someone thinks so," Tony looked back at his hands, the sincerity on Steve's face almost hard to look at. Steve knocked on the glass again to get Tony's attention, not willing to let Tony dismiss him so easily. He wrote for a longer time, but he did so slowly and deliberately, making sure that Tony followed his words.

_You can't let your past hurt your future. Accept it for what it is and what it can teach you, but don't let it haunt you. Everyone makes mistakes, it doesn't make you evil or bad, it makes you human. Regardless of your past, Tony, you're a hero now. If not for fighting supervillains, than for what you've given me. I was so alone, and…you've given me so much more than I could ever say._

"Steve…" Tony paused a long moment, an immense gratitude swelling in his chest at Steve's words. Before he could say more, Steve did.

_You_  are  _a hero, Tony. But more importantly than that, you're a good man._

They talked a little longer until Tony had to leave before he was caught, but it was those words that echoed in Tony's head for the rest of the day. They played over and over in his mind until he came to the only possible conclusion. It had been inevitable, from the moment he'd met eyes with Steve, the moment he'd spoken to him, the moment he'd fallen in love with him.

For once in his life, Tony was going to do the right thing.

That night when Tony walked up to the tank, he pressed his hand to the glass in their greeting more hesitantly usual. He was decked out in his Iron Man gear, and though there was a slight look of amused confusion in Steve's eyes, Steve pressed his hand to Tony's as he always did. He started to write something, but Tony just shook his head.

The words were harder to say than Tony would have thought. He clenched his fists tightly, but he knew what he was doing was right. Steve believed in him, believed that he was a good man, a hero; a good man wouldn't sit idly by while Steve suffered miserably in captivity. A good man would let the man he loved go free, even if the thought that he would never see Steve again made him feel like he was drowning.

"I'm setting you free. Tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Steve felt his heart sink somewhere to the bottom of the tank.

Tony didn't say anything else, instead stepped forward, firing up Iron Man's repulsors and flying to the top of the tank. Steve rapped on the glass, not knowing what he meant to say, just wanting to say anything to get Tony to stop. Why was he doing this?

_Tony wait I need to tell you_

But that was all he got out before Tony impatiently stopped watching him write and starting talking again, flying up and beginning to pull on the metal cover of his tank.

"No, no more waiting. I don't want to see you here anymore. I have enough money to pay off whatever charges they file against me for theft or whatever, and it's disgusting that I let it go on this long."

Steve flinched.

_I don't want to see you here anymore._

_Disgusting._

_Let it go on this long._

Steve didn't know what to make of it all. Tony sounded frustrated, upset, and he wondered what he'd done to irritate Tony so greatly that he wanted Steve all the way back in the ocean. Had he done something wrong? Had he said something he shouldn't have? Steve swum back and forth, suddenly anxious. He hadn't meant to, really, he hadn't, he would never want to say anything to make Tony feel upset. If anything, he went out of his way to get Tony to smile; he liked the other man's smile, the quirk of his soft-looking lips, the crinkles by his amused eyes.

It wasn't just Tony's smile, either. It was…everything. Steve hadn't thought it was possible to  _need_ someone so much, so inherently, until he'd met Tony. It was as if he'd spent his life waiting for Tony to come along, and never even known it until they locked eyes in that first, breathless moment. For Tony it had probably only been a glance, same as any other, but for Steve…it started something, something strong, something real. He'd tried to tell himself that it was just a glance, that he didn't even know the man's name yet, but…in just that all too brief glance, he'd known it was love.

The feeling hadn't exactly dimmed over their time together. He knew rationally that nothing would ever come of it, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted Tony, needed him in his life like a drug addict needed their fix. Tony had asked him earlier if he'd missed him, and he had told the truth. Whether Tony was gone a day or an hour, Steve missed him something fierce.

There was just something about him. The man was impossibly selfless, never failed to make Steve laugh, and the worn, old soul in his expressive brown eyes made Steve ache at times. He treated Steve like he was more than a toy to play with or an exhibit to marvel at; he actually talked to him, respected him as a person. He knew more about Steve than anyone, and Steve liked to think he could say the same. Steve  _needed_ Tony like he needed to breathe, and he'd thought that Tony felt the same.

So why was he trying to get rid of him?

He needed to talk to Tony, out loud, to ask him why he was doing this, what Steve had done to hurt him and how he could fix it. He would do anything to fix it, to let things go back to what they'd been. If all they could ever have were those midnight talks, he'd take them in a heartbeat. When he first started falling for Tony, he  _knew_ it was all he'd ever have. He knew that thanks to the curse, he would never be able to even touch Tony; he'd known from the start that it was a doomed love, but that hadn't stopped Steve from loving Tony all the same.

More importantly than whatever Steve had done to upset Tony, however, was the fact that Steve needed to get Tony to  _listen_ to him for a minute. Under no circumstances could Tony touch Steve. Steve knocked against the glass again, more insistently, but Tony either ignored or didn't hear him, intent on prying off the lid. It was made of a metal Steve didn't recognize, he just knew that it was impossibly strong.

Once upon a time, Steve might have been able to lift it-before the curse had changed everything, the serum had given him strength beyond his wildest dreams-but now he couldn't. He tried and tried to no avail, at least before Tony had shown up and made being in that awful tank worthwhile. Tony managed to remove the lid though, sliding it back and waving at Steve to come up. Steve shook his head miserably, wanting so desperately for the ability to  _talk_ to Tony.

_I should have told you. I should have told you. I should have told you._

He thought it over and over, but Tony wasn't a mind-reader and there was no longer anything to write on. Steve shook his head again, swimming away to the other end of the tank before Tony could get any ideas about coming in. Tony sighed, pulling out a device that looked something like a mechanical mask.

"I  _am_ a genius, y'know," Tony sighed, just the slightest bit of humor in his eyes, "I know you can't breathe out here. I made this. It'll keep you breathing H2O for at least a half hour, and that's plenty long to fly you out to the ocean."

Steve shook his head again insistently.  _You don't understand!_

"Steve…" Tony pulled back, clearly confused now, "I'm trying to  _help_ you."

 _Then listen to me!_ Steve tried to shout at Tony with his mind, and Tony seemed to get it, at least somewhat.

"Don't you…don't you want to go home?" Tony frowned.

 _There's nothing to go home to anymore!_ Steve thought miserably, shaking his head with vehemence,  _God, Tony, you're all I have and you don't even know it._

Tony slid back off the lid of the tank, and tapped on the glass.

"Talk to me."

Steve swam over in a flash, so impossibly grateful that Tony was listening again.

_I should have told you this before, but I didn't want you to stop coming to visit so I kept it a secret and I'm so sorry about that because you had a right to know, you told me so much about you and I_

"You never owed me anything, Steven," Tony shook his head, interrupting quickly, slipping into Steve's full name as he sometimes did, "Friendship isn't tit for tat, just because I told you those things never meant I expected things from you, your secrets are yours to keep if you want to-"

 _I_ don't  _want to, I want to tell you, I should have. Do you remember the super soldier experiments of the 1940's?_

"My father worked on them. They thought they perfected it once during World War II, but Dr. Erskine was killed before he could find someone he deemed a suitable test subject and the formula was lost. Why?"

_They were working on it in Atlantis, too. They managed to replicate Erskine's success, and…I was the soldier they tested it on. It worked; I was the first super soldier. They called me Captain Atlantis, and I was able to do a lot of good for a while, but…our enemies weren't so happy about that. They sought out a sea witch, and had her cast a curse on me. They didn't know what it would do, just that it would take my strength and turn it into something else. Something darker. Instead of being strong, I…I can't touch anyone, or they…they die, Tony._

Steve flinched, turning away. Tony carried so much guilt for the blood he thought stained his hands…surely the very real blood staining Steve's disgusted him.

"Jesus," Tony exhaled quietly, shakily.

Steve nodded, still unwilling to look at Tony as he continued writing.

_There's…there's more. My…ability made me impossibly dangerous to everyone, not just our enemies but to everyone around me. Eventually, they ambushed me and sent me into the Arctic Circle to die. Somehow, I wound up frozen instead, probably something to do with the serum. I was unfrozen a few months ago, and when I went back…they were gone. All of Atlantis, nothing but rubble. There's…there's nothing to take me back to, Tony, no home for me to return to, not that they'd want me anyway. Even if I left the water and became human, what good would that do? I bump into someone on the street and they're dead? I can't live a life like that-"_

"What do you mean, if you left the water and became human?" Tony asked sharply, and Steve finally made eye contact with him again. Tony's eyes were wide in surprise, and he took a step closer to the tank, almost without meaning to, "You…you can…?"

_All of us can. Could. I don't…our numbers were dwindling when I was frozen, and I…I don't know if there are any more of us left, I might…I might be the…_

"Oh, Steven…"

Tony's voice was fragile and gentle at the same time, both aching for Steve's pain and aching to ease it. He pressed his hand against the glass that separated them in the only gesture of comfort he could offer, but it was more than enough. Steve's hands had curled into white-knuckled fists at some point, and he uncurled them now, softly placing his own, larger hand against Tony's.

Tony's eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned against the glass like it was all that could keep him up, humming softly for Steve's ears alone. Steve leaned into the glass as well, closing his eyes and listening to Tony's lilting melody. He imagined, for just a brief, flicker of a moment, that there was no glass between them. That for one perfect moment, he was holding Tony in his arms. It was the closest he'd come to physical contact in seventy years, and it meant more to him than he could ever say.

_I love you._

Tony's humming stopped abruptly, and he blinked once, twice. He bit his lip then, as if questioning something.

"Did…?" he fell silent without finishing his question, shaking his head, muttering, "Impossible."

Steve's heart stopped. Had Tony…heard him? True, his species communicated through touch, but they hadn't been touching. Steve hadn't touched anyone, hadn't been  _able_ to, in seventy years. There was a very thick wall of glass between them, it was the only reason Tony wasn't lying dead on the floor-just the thought of it made Steve feel sick, and he pulled away from the glass. Tony didn't though, and looked at Steve intently, as if he held all the secrets of the universe.

"Did…do you…" Tony tried again, but his words fell flat. He shook his head, stepping back and running a hand through his tousled hair, "I'm going crazy. I want something so badly I'm  _actually_ making myself crazy with it."

Steve would have sworn on his mother's Bible that his heart actually skipped a beat.

 _Want something?_ Steve wrote against the glass, careful to keep his hand steady and trying to remember to breathe.

"This is going to sound…" Tony shook his head again, sighing, "Silly. Childish. Maybe even a little crazy, just…try not to judge me too harshly, alright? I just, I have to say this, I need to."

_I won't judge you, Tony. You can tell me anything, you have to know that by now._

"I do know," Tony smiled, tired and grateful all at once, "I'm just…I'm going on very little sleep here, you know? And I come here, thinking I'm going to do this great thing and set you free, that I'm going to at least try and be the man you think I am. Then you tell me these things that absolutely break my heart, because you're  _such_ a good person and you don't deserve any of this, not a single thing, you deserve the world on a silver platter and I would give every last penny I have, give everything I've ever owned or made just to give it to you, to give you everything you could ever want but I _can't,_ and it just…it kills me."

_Tony, you don't have to give me anythi-_

"I don't have to, but I  _want_ to, you…god, Steve, you just take my breath away sometimes, you know that? And even though I'll never even be able to so much as hold your hand without, you know  _dying,_  god help me I'm still so  _so_ madly in love with you like nothing has changed, like nothing will ever change, because I don't even  _care._ I still want you, want this, even if 'this' is only ever a bunch of illegal late-night talks and hands pressed against a layer of glass. There's so much I can't do for you and it cuts me like a knife, but I love you, irrevocably and without question, and I know that's not enough, but it's something I think you should know."

Steve was frozen, completely still, nothing in his world but the man standing in front of him.

_I love you, Tony._

He thought it, tried to push his thoughts through the barrier he knewnow that he'd breached just a few moments before. He knew that Tony had heard him when they'd been pressed against the glass, when Tony had faltered and looked at him like the stars had just rearranged themselves in Steve's eyes. He didn't know how he'd done it, how Tony had heard him without the physical contact usually required, but it had happened, and Steve knew he could do it again, he would do it again, because he wanted Tony to hear this from him, in his own voice.

_I love you, I love you, I love you-_

Sometime after the third  _I love you_  Tony stepped towards him, eyes wide in equal measure hope and wonder. Steve just kept thinking, finally  _speaking_ to Tony for the first time, desperate to say this in his own voice instead of just writing it against a wall of glass.

_Tony, I need you to hear me now, hear that I want this too, even if I never feel your skin on mine, because I love you, love the cadence of your voice, the expressiveness of your eyes, the quirk of your lips when you're trying not to smile. I love the way I can map the contours of your hands, the scars and burns from metal-working and the sinews of your fingers telling a story only I'm allowed to read. I love everything you love about yourself, your witty humor, your vivacious charm, your unbelievable intelligence; but I love everything you hate about yourself too, even your past for making you who you are. I love that you have this deep desire to save everyone, because you wrongly think you don't deserve to be saved yourself. I love you for who you are, Tony._

There was a very long pause, and Tony stepped closer to the glass tentatively.

"I'm going crazy," he murmured faintly, his still-wide eyes searching Steve's for answers as he pressed his hand against the glass again, more for support this time than anything else.

 _Not crazy,_ Steve smiled, pressing his hand against Tony's anyway in reassurance, _My species, we've always communicated through touch-similar to mind reading, but through a physical connection. I was cut off from that after the curse, I couldn't speak to anyone, and I never thought…I never thought I would again. I don't know how, but…I think, somehow, I don't need a physical connection to talk to you anymore._

"So I'm…reading your mind…?" Tony asked, looking fairly pale.

_Sort of. More like I'm projecting. You hear the things I'd want you to hear. Like speaking, just…with my mind._

"Naturally," Tony gulped, then shook his head, "I hate magic."

_I'm rather fond of it at the moment._

"Well, I mean, yes!" Tony hastily corrected himself, "That part. Is. Y'know, great. I just…I had just come to terms with the whole I-love-a-merman thing, then it became I-love-a-merman-that-can-kill-me-with-his-pinky thing, which, I mean, so can Natasha and Coulson, and probably Pepper if I'm being honest with myself, and Clint and definitely Thor and Bruce if he's mad and I clearly hang around dangerous people to begin with, so, y'know, that's manageable. Now you're a mind…thought…projector? Which is great, really! Because your voice is…fantastic, and this has got to be easier than writing everything, I'm just, trying to wrap my mind around that. I mean, I'm a man of science, and this is…shouldn't be…should totally not be possible. But, there's a lot of things that shouldn't be possible, things like Thor's weird hammer and Loki's mind-mojo, so I'm…wait…I got it!"

_Tony?_

Tony was pulling away from the glass, starting to pace, an idea bright in his eyes.

"No, no, this works! Loki, the rat bastard, he knows all about curses and witches and magic-y things. He's technically a god even, surely he's powerful enough? That's totally how magic works, stronger magic-people undo weaker magic-people, right? That makes sense. Sort of. In a magic-y way, I think-"

_Tony, you're rambling._

"You haven't gotten used to that yet?" Tony flashed him a quick grin, and Steve chuckled.

_Oh, I'm used to it. Just curious where you're going._

"You said it was some sea witch that laid the curse on you, right?"

_Yes…_

"Well, Loki, the guy we fight sometimes? Thor's brother? He's a god. Of, I don't know, daddy issues or something, but the point is, a god has to be more powerful than some sea witch, right? He can probably undo the curse!"

 _You think?_ Steve's eyes lit up, and he couldn't stop his tail from twitching, flickering hopefully.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this in the first place!" Tony exclaimed, "Okay, admittedly, the how'll be tricky, since he's kind of an ass, but considering he totally owes us for trying to take over Earth like a hundred times now and he's also kind of a loose cannon, who knows, he  _might_  agree to do it. And if he doesn't, maybe next time Thor takes him into custody I could ask him to give Loki a community service sentence before he escapes for the hundredth time? I don't know, I'll talk to Thor, we'll work something out.

_Tony, if it doesn't work-_

"Hey," Tony interrupted with a grin, "I'm a genius, remember?"

_I know, but Tony-_

"Really, Steve, I know I can-"

 _Tony, listen to me for a minute._ Steve insisted with a smile,  _Whether or not Loki agrees, whether or not he even_  can _do anything…it doesn't matter if you can fix this or not, I love you anyway, you know that, right?_

"Processing that, yep."

_Processing?_

"I'm in love with a gorgeous 90 year old merman nicknamed Captain Atlantis, of all things, who also happens to have the power to kill me and claims to love me back," Tony gave a quirked grin, then in his best robot voice, "Processing, processing…nope, cannot compute."

 _It's okay,_ Steve couldn't hide his grin,  _I'm in love with a gorgeous genius slash billionaire slash superhero who runs around in a suit of iron armor and a nightlight in his chest. It's a little hard to process too._

"It's not iron, actually, it's a nickel-titanium compound-"

_Did I mention he's kind of a dork?_

"Negatory, mon Capitan," Tony grinned, "I am a  _total_ dork. Just so you know what you're getting into here."

_I'm well aware of what I'm getting into._

"Still want me?"

_Like a drug._

"How romantic."


	4. Chapter 4

Tony stayed with Steve until just before dawn. He couldn't have found Loki in the middle of the night anyway, so he felt his time was better spent with Steve. A beeping from within the Iron Man suit, however, called him away. As the  _Avengers Assemble_ call blared from his suit, Tony pressed a hand to the glass in their usual goodbye.

"I have to go, but I'll be back tomorrow night, promise. I love you, Steve."

_I love you too, Tony._

Tony darted away, faking a roll like some kind of spy and shooting a cheeky grin over his shoulder at Steve, then activating his repulsors and taking off. Steve only had a brief moment to chuckle at Tony's dramatic exit before a rap of pale knuckles against the glass startled him.

He'd never seen this man before, and it was as if he'd appeared out of thin air. The man was tall and slim, with slicked back hair and green eyes. He was dressed oddly, a mix of gold and metal and leather, and a green cape billowed behind him.

"My…aren't you something."

The man circled the tank, assessing him with reserved interest, and Steve blinked back curiously.

"The one who cast this curse upon you, I know him well."

Steve rushed to the glass, his entire focus on the man in an instant. If this man knew the sorcerer that had cursed Steve, did the man know how to reach him, or perhaps how to break the curse on his own?

"So hopeful," the man murmured, "Yes, I've heard your tale. A courageous, loyal warrior, and above all, most pure of heart…"

The man broke off to place a hand against the glass. The action was reminiscent of Tony; something in the back of Steve's mind whispered- _tainted, different, manipulation-_ but a blue calm overrode his thoughts, pulled him forward to the glass. A blue glow emanated from the man's hand, and it floated through the water to land directly over Steve's heart. For a brief moment, Steve was breathless; the blue glow felt probing, invasive, and pried into the very depths of Steve's heart.

"So this is love," the man murmured softly, his brow scrunched together in what wasn't quite distress or upset, but deep perplexity. He seemed thrown off, as if he couldn't quite make sense of what he was seeing, "And for Tony Stark, of all men."

It hadn't been a question, but Steve could feel the blue glow probing further into his heart, as if searching for a fault, a lie, a deception. It seemed to be searching for a crack to push or pressure, but couldn't seem to find one.

"Stark is not a man to be loved," the man in green said. It sounded like a mix of warning and challenge, but the blue calm in Steve's veins placated him. He simply blinked back impassively, unsure of what the man's point was, "Stark has been designing weapons since he left the crib. He has destroyed lives, torn apart families, and facilitated war, all to make a profit and enable his own spoilt luxury. Do you dispute this?"

Steve paused, about to try and explain, only to realize he had no way to explain himself. Then, a wave of blue calm washed over him; he didn't need to explain himself or his reasoning to this man. Steve knew that Tony had changed, and that he would never stop fighting to repent for his mistakes, to become a better person. More than that, he knew that Tony hated himself far more than anyone else ever could, and that he deserved forgiveness as much as anyone.

"Yet you claim you love him?"

The man seemed to withdraw a moment, the question coming out perhaps more softly than he meant it to. Then he stepped forward, letting his fingers rest lightly against the glass. He probed Steve's heart again, and Steve could feel him sorting through his interactions with Tony, passing over each word, each moment, each feeling with curious care, as if he could determine it's meaning by examining it long enough. Then, suddenly, he pulled back, abruptly ceasing his digging into Steve's heart.

"Tony Stark is a, a disaster," the man sputtered, seeming to grow angry, "His closest friends are found on his payroll, he can hardly convince his own teammates to work with him unless the world is about to come to it's end, his own  _father_  couldn't love him, how could anyone else-"

The man's words sparked something in Steve-an urge to defend, to argue-and he flashed forward. He slammed a hand against the glass in warning and it reverberated under his fist regardless of his lack of super strength. He let out a growl of warning; he may not have had the ability to communicate verbally how strongly he would argue that sentiment, but he showed it as best he could.

The man flinched back, then narrowed his eyes and angrily pressed his hand back against the glass, pushing more of the blue glow at Steve's chest. Steve stayed strong; the wave of blue rolled off him. Mind tricks would not work on him again.

"Resist if you wish, but you would be wise to listen to me, Captain," the man regarded him warily, "I am more familiar with such things than you know. Some men are so far beyond redemption that even our own family cannot love us, some…some men are simply not meant to be loved."

The man paused a long moment, withdrawing within himself, before shaking off the gravity of his thoughts.

"But I suppose there's no accounting for Midgardian taste," he attempted to brush it off, seeming to force a mocking smirk onto his face, "Regardless of the haze of Stark that clouds it, your heart is most certainly pure enough. I'm certain you'll be able to accomplish my task."

What was the man going on about? Steve felt a growing sense of paranoia; though he'd shaken off the man's blue glow, he remained suspicious of the man.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, merman. I'm here to offer you a chance at life on land with your beloved Stark," the man waved a hand, a wry smirk on his face, "Or don't you want that?"

Steve couldn't help himself; he swam forward to the glass with an emphatic nod.

"My, enthusiastic, aren't we?" the man noted dryly, "Breaking such a powerful curse has a cost, however. To balance the breaking of your curse, you must trade me…oh, say, the use of your form?"

Steve's eyes narrowed, and he quirked his head in question; what did he mean by 'form'?

"My powers have recently been…limited. I can no longer shapeshift without making deals like a talentless sea witch," the man spat, then seemed to reign himself in, "Regardless, I'm sure you wish to be rid of your curse, and it's only three days, after all. A fair trade, is it not?"

A warning hissed in the back of Steve's mind- _what uses could he have for my form? What devious plans is he hatching?_ -but his desire to be rid of the curse overrode good sense. He waved a hand, as if to say,  _and? What else?_

"The deal is not inherently permanent, mind you," the man explained further, "You have three days to seal the deal."

Steve quirked his head in confusion at that.

"What's that phrasing you mortals are so fond of…" the man pondered a moment, then, "Ah, yes, 'true love's first kiss'. That's par for the course with low level deals such as these, it seems. If you manage that within three days, I will no longer be able to use your form, and your curse will be permanently broken. Does this sound amenable to you?"

Steve considered it; Tony had said he loved him. If they were able to touch, he didn't see why he wouldn't be able to kiss Tony within three days time. Maybe he really could do this; he nodded cautiously to the man to signal his agreement.

"Delightful," the man smirked, "I'll just need your signature here then."

A scroll appeared and unraveled in front of Steve, impervious to the fact that it was underwater. A pen appeared in Steve's hand, and he scrawled his signature at the bottom.

"Oh yes," the man drawled as the scroll glowed bright before teleporting over to the man's hand, "I perhaps should mention that Stark will not remember you, and you will also lack your precious serum's effects. You claim true love, but see how your precious Stark feels about you when you don't have your looks to attract him."

Steve's eyes widened, but it was too late; green smoke was already swirling around him. The last thing he saw before it all went dark was a pair of green eyes and a curled smirk.

"Tsk, tsk. Always read the fine print, Captain."

Next thing Steve knew, he was suffocating.

A strange instinct urged him to open his mouth to breathe-something he hadn't done in a long time, he hadn't changed to his human form in 70 years, after all-but instead of air, Steve received a lungful of water. He choked on it, coughing and spluttering. He managed to get his head above water somehow for a brief moment, and he caught a glimpse of the sky.

Tall buildings lined his view and bright bursts of fire dotted the horizon; gunshots and a loud explosion sounded loudly above his head. He caught a brief flash of red and gold before he was drowning again. Dark blue engulfed him again, and water filled his lungs as he tried and failed to breathe. He flailed desperately, but he was too used to relying on his tail, and this form wasn't strong or coordinated enough to bring him back to the surface.

Just as Steve's vision started to fade and his head felt like it was about to explode, something plunged into the water above, crashing into him with dizzying force. They collided, spiraling further underwater. Whatever it was disentangled itself from him and seemed about to zoom back up to the surface, but paused, looking back down at him curiously. Steve looked up, and if he hadn't already been drowning, the sight would have stolen his breath away.

The surface light filtered in from above, forming a halo of light around the red and gold figure floating in the water above him. The figure, Iron Man- _Tony,_ his waning consciousness whispered-looked back at him, arc reactor casting a familiar blue glow in the dark waters. Unbidden, the melody Tony hummed to him last night played over in Steve's mind. The soft notes seemed to rise and fall with the lapping water as Steve sunk deeper and deeper, drifting away from the red and gold angel floating above him.

In his last moment of awareness, Steve thought that if this was the last thing he saw, he was okay with that.

* * *

Okay, there was something seriously weird going on.

Tony had disentangled himself from whatever marine animal he'd crashed into when Doom had blasted him in the ocean-and oh, Doom was  _so_ going to get it for that-and was taking off for the surface when he looked back. He squinted, and realized that he hadn't crashed into a marine animal at all.

It was a man-a nude, gangly one at that-and he was now drifting down further underwater. Tony was about to shoot down to grab him when the man looked back up at him, and Tony froze. The man was small and skinny, and Tony might have mistaken him for younger than he was if his face hadn't so clearly shown his age. He had an open, honest, sort of face, with high cheekbones and bright blue eyes that made Tony think of glimmering scales.

For a brief moment, nothing else existed in the world.

Tony found himself smacked in the face with the strangest sense of déjà vu he'd ever experienced. It wasn't quite that he had met him, or that they'd exchanged a few sentences; it was that in that one look Tony knew, with absolute certainty, that he  _knew_ this man, knew the core of him.

Tony almost stopped breathing as the man's eyes searched his in return a moment, and blue eyes settled on contentment as they drifted closed. As the man closed his eyes Tony swore, the spell broken, and he raced down to grab him. He scooped the man up in his arms and shot off back for the surface; as he did so, he felt a strange sense of…returning, of belonging, and Tony felt his arc reactor speed up to keep up with his pulse.

They broke the surface, but the man in his arms didn't wake up. Tony landed over on the nearby beach, gently placing the man on the ground. No one was around-Doom attacks usually meant people were quick to head indoors-so Tony laid him out. He removed his helmet and pressed an ear to the man's chest; he was breathing, but it was shallow, shaky. Tony shook him, then rolled him on his side and tried pounding on his back. That worked-the man choked, gasped, and began coughing up water.

He spent a good minute hacking up a lung, then rolled over onto his back, apparently unaware that he was now lying spread eagle. While Tony wasn't exactly opposed to nudity, this  _was_ a public beach. Was this guy some kind of nudist, or what? The man turned and looked at him, and for a brief moment, happiness bright as day flashed across the man's face-then it was gone, quick as it came.

Tony frowned. Well, he certainly hadn't meant to disappoint.

"You okay there?" he questioned.

The man nodded shakily in reply, coughing a few more times for good measure.

"So, you, uh, did you lose your clothes underwater, or are you just like a nudist? Cause I mean, hey, that's cool, it takes all types and all, just curious."

The man shot him a fond, exasperated smile, and Tony found himself frowning again. He knew that smile, that  _particular_  smile; something about it was so familiar he could taste it on his tongue.

"Do I know you?"

The words were out of Tony's mouth before he could stop them, and the man looked taken aback. He ducked his head, eventually shaking it: no. The man shuffled a bit, covering his nude self with a blush-and wow, that blush just went all the way down, didn't it-so Tony laughed to ease the tension a bit. He clapped a hand on the man's shoulder, though he was careful not to hit the guy too hard, he looked a bit fragile, frankly.

"Oh well. Hey, don't worry about the losing your clothes thing, it happens," Tony assured him, "In fact, you heard of the Hulk? Trust me, I have seen _way_ more of that guy than I ever wanted to, I mean, talk about feeling inferior-"

The guy snorted a laugh, and Tony counted it as a win.

"Speaking of the good doctor, you look like you could use one. You look pretty banged up, in addition to the whole, y'know, nude drowning thing."

The guy paused to assess himself, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms. He didn't have any bruises or anything, other than the one that was beginning to blossom on his back.

"That's my bad, sorry. You were unconscious, and I thought I'd try and bring you back to the living, but the suit's pretty strong. You'll probably want to get that checked out, make sure I didn't bruise anything too important," Tony paused, then, "You don't talk much, do you?"

The guy opened his mouth, waved a hand in front of it, then shook his head. He blushed a bit, clearly feeling a bit silly, but Tony understood.

"You can't?"

The guy nodded.

"Weird. That's not my fault somehow, is it?"

The guy shook his head with a small smile.

"There's a smile," Tony bumped his shoulder with a grin, "No need to look so serious. Sure, you almost drowned, but you lived! You could at least look happy about it. And hey, you get to tell your friends that the invincible Iron Man saved your life! If it makes you feel better, you can tell em I had to perform CPR."

Tony shot him a sly wink, and the guy flushed.

"Quite a blush you got there. Y'know…" Tony glanced back at the city, where things seemed to have calmed down a bit, "I think they wrapped up Doom without me. If that's over, I can take you to a friend of mine, if you like? Bruce was great when he patched me up last time I bruised my ribs. I was, of course, a model patient-"

The guy just shoved him, rolling his eyes.

"Did you just  _shove_ me? What, you think I'm not a good patient? I'll have you know I am greatly offended right now," Tony huffed, though he couldn't help a sly grin.

The guy just raised a completely disbelieving eyebrow with a sly smile of his own.

"Okay, maybe only moderately offended," Tony paused, then, "What's your name, anyway?"

The guy glanced around, then noticed the sand beneath him and began writing it out with his finger. While he was writing, Tony could have smacked himself; why didn't he think of that? He's supposed to be the genius here.

_Steven Rogers._

"Steven," Tony smiled softly, "Old-fashioned. I like it."

That must have been the wrong thing to say; Steven's eyes went wide, and he blinked rather owlishly.

"Something wrong? I mean, hey, if you prefer Steve, I could call you that instead, it's all good-"

Steve shook his head emphatically, writing out,

_No, no. A…_

Steve paused for a long moment, then continued,

_A good friend of mine said the same thing, you just surprised me._

"Great minds think alike," Tony grinned.

_Great minds indeed. Steve, Steven, either's fine._

"What, you don't think he's smarter than me, do you? I don't know if you're aware kid, but I'm  _Tony Stark._ It doesn't get smarter than this," Tony tapped his own temple with a cheeky grin, and Steve just chuckled.

 _Believe me, I know who you are._  Steve chuckled, then added with a cheeky grin,  _And I think he'd say he's about as smart as you._

"Then I think I'd say your friend is telling you horribly false lies," Tony accused.

 _Whatever you say, Tony._ Steve just shot him what was clearly an indulgent smile.

"Well, if you're going to be this sassy, maybe I should just leave you here, naked, sandy and on your own, hm?"

Tony was teasing, of course. Firstly, he wasn't letting this guy out of his sight until he could figure out what this strange connection he had with him was about. Second, he wasn't really the type to leave  _anyone_  stranded naked on a beach, he was a superhero after all; he'd at least drop them at a hospital somewhere. So, for the record, Tony was  _totally kidding,_ and there was absolutely no reason for this Steve guy to look at him like Tony had personally eaten his newborn child.

"Totally kidding," Tony said hastily, "Seriously, stop looking at me like that-"

_I didn't mean to look li_

"I mean, jeez, you're making me feel like I just drop-kicked your puppy into on-coming traffic or something-"

_My puppy?_

"What, don't tell me you want one?"

_What? No, I don't want a_

"Cause, I mean, hey, I could buy you a puppy, I could buy a whole pet store, really, I'm kind of rich, and if it'll make you stop looking at me like that then that is a totally appropriate use of funds and I've spent way more on way stupider-"

_What? No, back up, why did you kick a puppy?_

"What? I didn't kick a puppy, what're you talking about?"

_But you said you_

"You took me seriously? Don't take me seriously, I say things a lot and I don't necessarily think about them before I say them. Or after, really."

 _So, mainly, you don't think?_ Steve shot him a wry smile.

"Mainly."

Steve needed to not smile at him like that, because frankly, Steve-smiles seemed to be a very dangerous weapon indeed.

 _You won't leave me here, then?_ The shy look on Steve's face told Tony the poor guy clearly thought that was even an option.

"Of course not," Tony huffed in offense, then he joked, "I mean, I'm a superhero, that would totally ruin my rep."

_Totally._

Steve was smiling that wry smile again, that fondly exasperated Tony smile that Tony was absolutely  _sure_ he had seen before. He brushed it off when he caught Steve shivering; Tony could figure out where he knew the guy from later. Right now, he needed to get this guy some clothes. Not to mention figure out where the hell this random mute nudist came from and if maybe he'd like to stick around.

Tony's life was _so_  strange.

"Alright, c'mon," Tony stood, clapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "How'd you like to see Stark Tower? If I call Bruce on the way, he could probably meet us there, get you checked out while I grab you some clothes. Sound good?"

Steve nodded, so Tony grabbed his helmet, dusted off the sand, and locked it back on. He then hoisted Steve up into his arms bridal style, grinning when he heard Steve's surprised inhale, and took off into the open sky.


	5. Chapter 5

So, naked flying?

Very, very cold.

"Sorry," Tony apologized again as they landed on the upper deck of Stark Tower, "But you know, when you're wearing clothes, it's not usually quite that bad."

Steve just shot him a look, and Tony waved him on inside while the walkway's machine took apart his armor. Steve couldn't help but gape a bit as he watched; he'd never seen anything like it. Before the war, before the serum and subsequent curse, he'd come on land quite a bit – landfolk and their gadgetry had always interested him – but he couldn't remember anything quite so amazing.

"Have a seat," Tony gestured to the couch, "Bruce said he'd be here in five, I'll grab you a robe or something."

Tony disappeared briefly, returning moments later with a black, rectangular object and a fluffy white robe.

"You can use this to communicate. So how'd you go mute?" Tony asked, to the point as always.

Steve didn't have any trouble figuring out what the robe was for-landfolk seemed very intent on covering up, and the sleeves made it pretty obvious how to put it on-but at Tony's question, he paused. Steve stared at the object in his hands blankly for a long moment. What was he supposed to do with this? Maybe the writing part was on the other side? No, there was nothing on the back, either. Was the thing electronic? How did he turn it on? Should he shake it?

"Oh my god, you're adorable, no. Stop that," Tony laughed as he plucked the tablet back out of Steve's hands. He pressed a button, and the screen lit up. A few taps here and there, and Steve was presented with something that looked like a notepad and a set of letters, "Here. What are you, Amish? Have you never seen a StarkPad before, or a tablet for that matter?

 _No,_ Steve typed, plucking out the letters with a single, slow finger.

"Never? Damn. Don't tell me you're technophobic? Nudists, I'm down with; practically an honorary member. Technophobia's kind of a deal-breaker though."

 _I like it a lot, it's fascinating. Just new._ Steve's typing was incredibly slow and it frustrated him a bit, but it was better than nothing.

"Fair enough," a sly grin slid onto Tony's face, "Then this is gonna blow your mind-JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

Steve startled, head whipping up, and he dropped the device to go into defensive position.

"Easy there, soldier," Tony had one eyebrow raised, looking amused, "That's my AI, artificial intelligence. Say hi to Steve, JARVIS."

Steve remembered now; he'd heard about JARVIS, the supercomputer in Tony's home and suits that kept him informed and looked after. Like an electronic butler, of sorts.

"Hello, Steven," JARVIS greeted.

Steve nodded a hello back at the ceiling as he picked the device back up.

"Oh, hey, so you never answered my nudist question. Cause I'mpretty down with whatever, but Pepper kinda comes and goes, and she's got this whole thing about 'people wear clothes, Tony'," Tony mimicked in what was clearly supposed to be Pepper's voice, but was far too high-pitched and whiny, "Even though this is totally  _my_ Tower and running around naked is so not the worst thing she's caught me doing and man, when there's no one to interject and tell me to shut up, I talk a  _lot-"_

 _I don't mind,_ Steve typed, showing it to Tony with a smile,  _It's…entertaining. And I'm not a nudist, I just…_

Steve paused. What exactly could he say here? Tony obviously didn't remember him. He could hardly say he was a merman, since Loki seemed to have taken that from him as well. He didn't have any sort of excuse.

"What's wrong? Can't remember?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

Steve didn't like lying, but…it was about the only plausible thing.

_Yeah, I can't remember._

"An amnesiac mute nudist. You just get more and more interesting, don't you?" Tony grinned.

"You know, Tony, I'm not your personal doctor," Steve heard as a man entered the room. From the dark curls and glasses, Steve was willing to bet he was the Bruce Tony had told him about, the doctor who could turn into the Hulk, "And usually when you rescue someone you take them to the hospital."

"He was naked, it would have been weird," Tony shrugged.

"Ha ha, very fu…" Bruce turned, and finally caught sight of the robe-clad Steve, "Oh. You weren't kidding. Hello, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner."

Bruce extended a hand to Steve, who couldn't help but hesitate. He hadn't had skin to skin contact in over 70 years, and before that, he'd killed people with it; he was understandably cautious. Sure, Tony had carried him here, but he'd been protected by his Iron Man suit. Could he really trust that the green-clad sorcerer had removed the curse? He'd already tricked him once…Steve caught sight of Bruce's perplexed look, and overcame his trepidation to shake the man's hand.

"So why are you, uh…?" Bruce raised an eyebrow, still scrutinizing him with dubious curiosity, as if he couldn't quite puzzle Steve out and found that indefiniteness unsettling.

"He can't remember," Tony waved a hand, "Amnesiac. Probably a side-effect of naked drowning."

"I don't think it works like that, Tony…" Bruce frowned, still examining Steve with cuation, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure. Here Steve," Tony leaned over, tapping a few things on the device, "Explore the world of touch-screen video games."

Tony watched as Steve's face lit up, then let Bruce tug him out of the room.

"Where did you find this guy, exactly?" Bruce whispered once they were around the corner, a worried look on his face.

"I told you over the com, weren't you listening? When Doom threw me underwater, I bumped into a drowning naked guy who can't talk or remember anything. I pulled him out and got him breathing again, but I hit him pretty hard, so I thought maybe you could make sure I didn't break him or anything. The guy looks pretty breakable, to be honest-what? What's that look for?"

"Tony, when you said that, we thought you were kidding!"

"Why would I be kidding?"

"Because that's insane!"

"Oh, relax, Brucie-bear. I'm just helping the guy out."

"Tony," Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't know how you used to do things, but finding naked people and bringing them home isn't generally considered normal. More than that, you're a public figure, it's a security threat. Fury's going to-"

"Oh c'mon, Bruce, you aren't really going to tell SHIELD on me, are you?"

"Tony, you don't have a clue this guy really is-"

"He said his name's Steve Rogers-"

"And he could be lying! Besides, I thought you said he had amnesia."

"Not about his name?

"Is that how amnesia even works?"

"I don't know, you're the doctor here."

"Tony," Bruce sighed again, "Normal people don't go swimming naked in the middle of the ocean, okay? That, and he seemed…cagey. Did you see the look on his face when I tried to shake his hand? There's something wrong with that guy."

"Look, I know it sounds weird, but I've just got this…" Tony searched for the right word, "Vibe about him. I feel like I know him, somehow. And sure, he's a little strange, but hey, so are we. Plus, stranger things happen around here all the time; remember the cyber-toads last week?"

"…" Bruce eyed him another moment, then peered around the corner. Steve was entranced with the game Tony had left him, gaining speed as his thin fingers darted nimbly across the screen, "Well. If you're going to be the eccentric billionaire weirdo who takes people in, you should at least get some food in him. He looks half-starved."

"You won't rat me out, then?" Tony perked up.

"I'm supposed to report back to Agent Coulson if your whole 'I just rescued a naked guy' story wasn't a joke, but…" Bruce wavered a moment, then gave in with a small, indulgent smile, "I suppose I could dawdle."

"I knew you were my favorite for a reason," Tony grinned, "Man, he's been such a bureaucratic pain in the ass lately. He gets stabbed by a god and lives  _once_  and it's like all of a sudden he thinks he's cool."

"Let's see you try it," Bruce just chuckled.

"Hey, I resisted the glow-stick of doom, I think that more than counts as my superhero moment of cool."

"Sure, Tony, you're very 'cool'," Bruce just rolled his eyes, "Just do yourself a favor and get him in some clothes before Agent Coulson shows up, would you?"

"You're the best science bro a man could ask for!" Tony called with a grin, pinching Bruce's ass as he turned to walk away. Bruce didn't even look back, just waved a hand, far too used to Tony's poking and prodding by now. Tony poked his head back into the room where Steve was waiting, "Hey, you hungry?"

Steve looked up, nodding enthusiastically with a bright smile. The smile dropped to a pout when he looked back at the StarkPad, to discover he'd lost his game. Tony paused a moment, watching Steve appreciatively. The guy could stand to gain a few pounds, but overall…he was certainly very attractive. Ridiculously expressive eyes, charming smile, slender hands that encouraged not-so-appropriate thoughts. Not to mention, he'd already seen the guy naked, and, well…

Tony shook his head to clear his mind.

"So, cooking and I kind of have a thing," Tony scratched the back of his neck, "Mutual hatred type situation, I hate to cook, appliances attack me when I try, you know how it goes. But anyway, I can make grilled cheese with minimal fire damage and like, two or three burns, max. You want one?"

Steve gave an amused smile and an eager nod.

* * *

"So, if you just wanna crash at my place til you get your memory back," Tony suggested as he deposited a thoroughly burnt grilled cheese in front of Steve, "That's fine by me. Amnesia sounds like a bitch."

 _It's…interesting,_ Steve typed on the StarkPad,  _And I really would appreciate a place to stay. Are you sure?_

"Of course," Tony shrugged, "Where else would you go? Don't even worry about it, I've got like twenty spare bedrooms."

_Thank you, Tony._

Steve gave him this wide, bright smile, and Tony found himself struck once again by the strangest, undeniable sense that he  _knew_ Steve. Part of it was how familiar the guy's quirks were; Tony felt himself anticipating little things, like the way Steve always quirked his head to the left when he had a question, the way his lips curled when he tried not to smile, the look in his eyes when Tony surprised him. He'd seen it before, seen it all before, he  _knew_ he had.

But where?

Not to mention, how had he possibly forgotten? Sure, he met a lot of people, but…something told him that if they'd really met, Tony wouldn't have forgotten Steve so easily.

However, it was more than a sense of déjà vu that had him convinced they'd met. There was something about how open Steve was with him that was just so…comfortable. He seemed at home with Tony, never guarded or reserved, never questioning Tony's intentions or seeming even remotely surprised that Tony had opened his home to an amnesiac mute he met naked in the ocean.

That sort of thing tended to surprise people.

Sure,  _he_ knew he was a nice guy; general public didn't. Most people pictured Tony as the greedy, smarmy bastard the press painted him to be. Steve didn't seem at all surprised that Tony was different from his public appearance, which logically suggested that he'd already known Tony wasn't like that.

Which suggested they knew each other.

Which would explain why Steve was so calm and relaxed, easy-going enough to joke around with Tony like they were old friends. Thing was, Tony didn't mind; Steve made  _him_ feel comfortable, too. The back of his mind said it was odd, but it didn't feel that way. It just felt natural, comfortable. Right.

 _Tony?_ Steve typed, reaching out cautiously as if to touch Tony's shoulder, then quickly seemed to think twice and pulled his hand away.

"I don't have cooties, y'know," Tony raised an eyebrow with a chuckle.

That got Steve's suddenly anxious face to crack a little; determined to get a full on smile out of the guy, Tony reached across the table and stole half the sandwich, taking a huge, sloppy bite.

"Fine. Guess I'll just have to take back my awesomely delicious grilled cheese," Tony declared through a mouthful of cheese and bread.

_You mean the grilled cheese that took you four tries, six burns, and one fire alarm?_

There was that smile.

"Hey, Dummy handled that fire like a pro," Tony grinned back, unable to resist returning Steve's infectious smile.

 _You_ would  _name your incredibly advanced robotic AI 'Dummy'._

"JARVIS is advanced," Tony scoffed, "Dummy's an idiot."

_You know you love him._

"He was…" Tony paused, nostalgia claiming him for a brief moment, "He was the first bot I ever built, you know?"

 _Yeah,_ Steve typed, then quickly erased it before Tony could see. He'd have to watch that, make sure not to reveal that he already knew a lot about Tony's life. He showed Tony a different answer,  _Really?_

"Yeah. He's an outdated, improperly coded, pyromaniac dummy, but…he's still my Dummy."

Steve watched the light play over Tony's face, the proud quirk of his lips at the thought of his bot, and found himself falling in love all over again. No matter what forget-about-Steve magic that sorcerer had cast, Tony was still the same Tony. The same Tony that had come to visit him every night for weeks, the same Tony that had shared everything with him, the same Tony he'd come to trust more than anyone. The same Tony that had learned every horrible little thing about him, and loved him anyway.

To hell with it all, he should just lean across the table right now and-

"Stark."

"Agent," Tony sighed with resignation, "Do I even want to know how you got in here?"

"Don't strain yourself," a man in a crisp, nondescript suit and dark sunglasses seated himself across from Steve and Tony, removing his shades and pocketing them before folding his hands and examining Steve shrewdly, "So I hear you've made a friend."

"Praise the lord, it's a miracle!" Tony waved his hands dramatically, "Tony's made a friend!"

"Agent Phil Coulson," the agent introduced himself to Steve with a nod, ignoring Tony's sarcasm entirely, "And you are?"

 _Steve,_ Steve typed.

"I'll be needing your full legal name."

 _Steven Grant Rogers,"_ Steve blinked in surprise, taken a bit aback by the man's directness, but it didn't end there.

"Employment status?"

_Unemployed. Uh, I think. I have amnesia._

"I see," the agent nodded, though it was clear he wasn't taking anything Steve said-well, typed-at face value, "And Stark found you in the ocean?"

_Yes, sir._

"Naked."

_Yes, sir._

"No ideas about how that came to be?"

_None, sir._

"You're striking me as military," he observed. Steve hadn't meant to revert, but something about the agent screamed 'in charge', and the soldier in Steve was still rather prevalent at times, "But your face didn't pull a name from any of our databases."

"You already did a search on him? How did you even get his picture?" Tony piped up.

Agent Coulson just shot Tony a look that clearly conveyed his disappointment that Tony even bothered to ask those kinds of questions anymore.

"I'll be taking your glass for fingerprints and a strand of your hair for DNA," Coulson said instead of answering, causing Tony to have a brief coughing fit, "And make no mistake, your cooperation here is entirely mandatory."

"My god, this is exactly why I never bring you anywhere," Tony threw his hands up, "Do you people even  _comprehend_  how weird you are?"

"You people?" Agent Coulson raised a dry eyebrow.

" _Your_  people! Fury faked your death to evoke our 'emotional conviction', Romanov stabbed me in the neck and tried to steal my kidney, Barton pulls some new prank on me at least once a week, Hill once tied me to a desk chair because I was being 'too fucking twitchy' and it 'made her nervous', and now, I'm friends with a guy for half an hour and you're in here  _demanding his DNA._  Seriously, Steve, you don't have to put up with this weirdo, I can-"

 _No, it's fine, really. Whatever they need to do,_ Steve just shrugged easily, before telling possibly his hugest lie ever,  _I have nothing to hide._

But it wasn't as if they were going to find his identity. Not to mention, Steve would shave his entire head if it meant he could live with Tony while he sorted this curse business out. He simply downed the last of the water Tony had given him, then passed his glass to Agent Coulson, who responded by leaning across the table and plucking a strand of his hair without preamble.

"It was informative to meet you, Mr. Rogers. Thank you for your cooperation," the agent nodded curtly, turning to leave. He made it to the doorway before he turned back, giving Tony just the smallest, most fleeting of smirks, "And Stark? If Agent Romanov had wanted your kidney, she'd have it."

Tony gaped, though Agent Coulson was already long gone.

 _So that's the famous Phil Coulson?_ Steve chuckled at last.

"His first name is 'agent'," Tony grumbled, "And just eat your grilled cheese, you smug little bastard."

* * *

If Steve never broke the curse, if he was stuck locked away in a tank somewhere for the rest of his life, it would all be worth it just for this one day.

After they finished their breakfast of grilled cheese, Tony decided on a whim-"what's the point of being a genius billionaire if you can't do things on a whim?"-to clear his entire schedule. He then suited up in a baggy sweatshirt, ratty jeans, and a baseball cap to better hide himself from the paparazzi, and taken Steve out on the town.

Steve wasn't entirely sure what the "paparazzi" was-something to do with cameras and magazines-but he didn't mind. Tony looked nice in business suits of course, but Steve liked him better in jeans and a sweatshirt. He looked more comfortable, more natural. Less like Anthony genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Stark, and more like the Tony he'd first gotten to know.

Tony, it turned out, was extremely liberal with his credit card. He dragged Steve all over the city, buying him everything from tons of clothes that actually fit to essentials like a toothbrush and deodorant to an expensive lunch at a diner that Tony declared had  _the_ best burgers in New York, if not the world. He'd insisted that Steve have at least two burgers, and ended up not-so-sneakily shoving most of his fries onto Steve's plate as well. He knew that Tony wouldn't be doing it if Steve wasn't currently half his size, but the loss of the super serum hadn't diminished his appetite, so he had no problems eating all that and more.

Tony did notice Steve's endless fascination with the sights around him, but thankfully seemed to chalk it up to amnesia. The truth was Steve just hadn't seen New York City since before he'd gone under, more than 70 years ago. He'd liked it a lot back then, even spent enough time on land to know the basics of landfolk and how they did things, but so much had changed. It was truly amazing, and Steve couldn't bring himself to stop staring. He apologized to Tony at one point, who just waved him off.

"No! Seriously, don't ever change. Do you know how fantastic it is to go places with someone who's honestly  _excited_  about it?"

 _You want to see excited, take me to an art gallery,_ Steve jokingly typed.

Half an hour later, Tony was desperately trying to keep up with a very wiggly, very eager Steve as he raced around the Museum of Modern Art.

Over the course of the day Tony took him to see all the sights, everything from Times Square to the Empire State Building, even walking around Central Park a while. After seeing all the big landmarks, they strolled through West Village and caught a movie at the Film Forum, something that absolutely fascinated Steve. Tony didn't like the movie so much, but assured Steve about a million times over that seeing Steve's astounded face would have been worth  _buying_ the place.

After the movie they caught a late dinner at Grimauldi's, a pizza place Tony claimed served "the best slice of heaven that'll ever touch your taste buds", and Steve definitely agreed, though he might not have been as theatric about it. But he loved that about Tony, same as Tony loved his enthusiasm. It made things entertaining, and it meant that barely a minute of their entire day together wasn't spent talking and joking and enjoying each other's company.

Sure, some of what Tony talked about Steve had heard before, simply because of how much they'd talked when Steve had been in the tank, and sure, communicating was occasionally a bit difficult through the StarkPad. But being out with Tony for real, in a way he hadn't dared dream of less than a day ago?

Worth everything.

When they finally made it back to Stark Tower, Tony dropped the shopping bags on the floor and collapsed onto the rec room couch with an exaggerated sigh.

"Man, you are so high maintenance, you know that?"

Steve just dropped the StarkPad into Tony's lap.

"Oof! Aggressive, too. What's this say…"

_Says the man who can only walk five blocks before he needs a cab._

"Hey, I was looking out for you, you skinny little ingrate."

Tony stuck his tongue out, passing the tablet back to him as Steve joined him on the couch. Tony wiggled, stretching out so that his head was in Steve's lap and his feet were propped up on the armrest at the end. Steve could feel himself blushing, though he willed it down; maybe he'd get a chance to spring that kiss on Tony sooner than he'd thought.

"JARVIS: lights, Star Wars, action!" Tony demanded with a wave of his hand.

The lights went out, and the huge screen in front of them powered on. Steve raised an eyebrow, not bothering to type out his question on the tablet. Tony was more than capable of reading his 'I don't understand that reference' face, even in the dark.

"Star Wars," Tony declared, "Is the greatest movie series of all time."

Before Steve could even answer, Tony cut him off.

"Ah ah ah! Star Wars is absolutely crucial to your re-education. And if you don't like that, then you can find somewhere else to crash."

Steve gave a mild shrug and pulled his best 'eh' face, and Tony elbowed him lightly.

"You're walking a thin line here, Rogers," Tony tried to be serious, though even in the dark Steve could see he was grinning, "I've just about had it with you."

Steve just chuckled, and Tony's attention was quickly diverted by the movie starting up. About halfway through, Tony got up for popcorn. Upon returning, he wound up less than an inch from Steve, and his arm mysteriously found it's way around Steve's shoulders; somehow, Tony managed to make the yawn-and-stretch endearingly dorky instead of completely cheesy.

Steve leaned in, appreciating the casual, simple contact more than Tony would probably ever realize, and it was at that precise moment Tony's Avengers alarm went off.

"Shit," Tony swore, yanking his arm back so fast he almost smacked himself upside the head, "Uh, I just, Avengers. Gotta go superhero it up…yeah, that sounded stupid in my head, too. Right, anyway, so I'm going to go do that, so. Enjoy the movie, I'll be back soon, just…stay?"

Tony probably hadn't meant for the last word to be a question, but Steve heard it anyway. Heard all the times Tony had grown attached to someone and been abandoned or betrayed or even just ignored.

 _I'll be here,_ Steve typed out, flashing the tablet to Tony in answer.

It wasn't enough; Steve wanted to write more than that, wanted to tell Tony that he'd always be here, that he wasn't going to leave or run away, ever if he could help it, but that would be pretty weird. To Tony, they'd only met that morning, after all. It had been a long, amazing day, but it was still just one day.

"Great," Tony grinned anyway, calling the suit to him with a device around his wrists.

The suit assembled around him and he took off down the hall, surely leaving skid marks and repulsor burns on the carpet. Steve only had a brief moment to wonder absently what the cleaning bill for a place like this had to be-God knows Tony would never do it himself-before he was no longer alone.

"Have you enjoyed your day on land, merman?" Steve turned to find that the green and metal-clad man he suspected to be the Loki Tony told him of had appeared once again, this time relaxing on the couch opposite him, "No true love's kiss, I see. Ah, don't take it too personally. Stark always struck me as a rather fickle man."

Steve shot Loki a dark glare, not bothering to listen to his lies. He'd been doing just fine at keeping Tony's attention, thank you very much.

"Oh, you poor, unfortunate soul," Loki chuckled snidely, as if he'd heard Steve's thoughts, "You think he loves you, don't you? Sweet, naïve little mortal. Men like Stark don't know the meaning of the word when not attached to voluptuous curves or a pair of pretty pecs; did you truly believe he could love you in a form such as yours?"

 _Pretty words for petty lies,_ Steve growled.

"Think them lies all you wish," Loki merely shrugged, "You'll be wishing you'd listened soon enough."

 _You can hear me, can't you?_ Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Quite clearly, yes," Loki seemed amused that he'd figured this out on his own, "Not when we first met, but my magic strengthens with each passing day, which is why I've sent your beloved and his playmates a little something to tussle with. I'd hoped that you and I might have a little…discussion, in their absence."

 _We have nothing to discuss,_ Steve eyed Loki warily,  _I signed the contract, you owe me two more days._

"Ah, but see, that's what I wish to discuss. Our deal goes a long way towards returning the entirety of my powers to me, and to show my gratitude for your assistance, I gave you this one, uninterrupted day with your precious Stark. Now I'm here to give one more, my final gift; the suggestion that you leave now, before you must deal with the fallout of your poor decisions."

For all the man's talk of 'gifts' and 'gratitude', Steve didn't trust Loki any farther than he could throw him-and thanks to the man's trickery, his frail body couldn't throw very far at all. Not to mention, why would the trickster give him any sort of warning? He clearly didn't care for Steve or Tony's wellbeing. If he was "suggesting" Steve leave, Steve would be more than willing to bet the man had something devious up his sleeve, and Steve sure as hell wasn't leaving Tony to deal with that on his own.

 _What do you mean, fallout?_ Steve frowned, eyeing Loki suspiciously.

"Oh, don't tell me you truly believed you'd be getting a…what is it, a 'happily ever after', did you?" Loki seemed amused that Steve could have ever thought otherwise, "You're a cursed murderer and your beloved a broken alcoholic; hardly the match of a fairy tale, merman."

 _I never asked for a fairy tale,_ Steve shook his head determinedly,  _I don't need one._

"Ah, but you need my magic, don't you?" Loki sneered darkly, "Or you'd kill him quick and simple as breathing. We can't always get what we want, merman. I gave you your dream for a day, and I suggest you take it for what it is; a dream, all of which must come to an end. Your ending has come."

 _I'm not going anywhere,_ Steve narrowed his eyes.

They sat across from each other a moment, Steve tense and challenging, Loki stiff and examining.

"I must say," Loki said dryly at last, "You're proving to be far more obstinate than anticipated; I admit, I thought you nothing more than a simple-minded fin-flipper with a crush. Perhaps it would be best if I remove you from play a bit."

Before Steve could react, Loki raised a hand, green sparks played across his vision, and everything went dark.


	6. Chapter 6

"Eyes, Hawkass, uses your eyes!"

"Shut up, dickwad!" Clint snapped, shooting down two of the flying worms with one arrow, "I'm doing better than you!"

"As  _if_ -"

"He is," Natasha confirmed, "He's at 34, you're at 19."

She, of course, was topping fifty, but they both knew better than to compete with her.

"Something on your mind, asswaffle?" Clint needled.

"Shut up and shoot things, douchebucket," Tony shot back.

Truth was, Tony was very, very distracted.

Random and pointless flying earthworms aside, Tony might have just had the best day of his entire miserable life. Steve was… _Steve._ He was earnest and funny and kind of a dork but in a charming, adorable sort of way. He was intelligent, too, memory loss or not, and in a very different way than Tony was used to.

Tony, and the people he worked with, were smart with electronics, with fitting things together, solving puzzles and formulating algorithms. Math, science, engineering; tangible things. Steve was analytical, always assessing things like some kind of tactician, like he was forming a battle plan.

He was articulate and respectful, but stuck to his guns when he had a point to prove. He always had an opinion, about everything from Tony's food choices to an analysis of Monet's artistic decisions, but he was quiet, shy to share it without being asked.

And boy, did Tony learn to ask.

Because Steve's opinions were  _interesting._ He looked at things differently than Tony, differently than anyone Tony had ever met. His worldview was different and intriguing and Tony could listen to Steve talk for days, weeks, months. Years. Forever. That'd be nice.

Well, not listen-Steve had to use the StarkPad to communicate-but the point remained. Besides, Tony was more than willing to build Steve something better, something to help him communicate faster. If it meant Steve might crash at his place a little bit longer, it sure as hell couldn't hur-

" _Oof,"_ Tony grunted, his train of thought cut off by a flying earthworm slamming into his stomach.

"Damn, you  _are_ distracted today," Clint snorted.

"Man of Iron, what is it on this eve that troubles you so?" Thor questioned.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Tony protested, grabbing the earthworm and swinging it up into the air to blast with his repulsors, "Totally fine!"

"Figures you'd have a thing for blondes," Natasha snorted over the com.

Tony turned to shoot her a dirty glare, only to get an earthworm thrown at his face.

"Seriously what is  _up_ with these, anyway?"

"Someone wanted to give us target practice?" Clint suggested, tucking his bow under his leg for a trick shot, "He shoots, he scores!"

"Whatever, weirdo," Tony rolled his eyes, "And I do  _not_ have a thing for blondes."

He had a thing for people named Steven Grant Rogers. It was entirely different.

What? It's not his fault he was picky.

"Whatever you say, lovemuffin."

"Can it, birdbrain."

"Save the flirting for your downtime," Coulson came in over the com, "We've got another dozen of these before we're in the clear, not to mention cleanup."

Tony groaned, and Coulson was quick to reply.

"No more fight-and-fly's," Coulson reminded them pointedly, " _Stark."_

"Oh come on, you don't still blame me for this morning, do you? Doom threw me in the ocean!"

"From which you emerged with a naked man whom you promptly ran off with."

"You're making it sound like I whisked him away to my sex lair or something, jeez-"

"Please,  _please_ tell me you don't actually have a sex lair," Coulson said in a voice that meant he was pinching his forehead and making the Stark-is-so-much-more-trouble-than-he's-worth face, "You are, unfortunately and to everyone's constant surprise, something of a role model these days-"

"Okay, first, no, I don't. Second, if I did, it would be awesome, and no one would be able to find it ever. Except Steve. I would totally let Steve in my sex lair."

"Stark…" Clint was giving him a weird look, "You haven't actually done anything to this guy right? Cause if he doesn't even know who he is, that is all kinds of wrong-"

"I have been a perfect gentleman,  _thank you,_ " Tony huffed in offense, "You guys, on the other hand, are being complete asshats to me. I totally resisted the urge to jump the guy, like, all day. That should get me some bonus points, right?"

"Yes, Stark. Bonus points for not raping strangers, we're so proud of you. Shall we mail you your plaque or simply display it in the Helicarrier?"

"You know, Coulson, one of these days I'm going to take you seriously."

"Perish the thought."

"Hey, we can't all be strong, independent women and like Merida over there," Tony jerked a thumb to Clint, "Staying single and letting our hair flow in the wind as we ride through the glen firing arrows into the sunset."

"So when they ask me when you officially lost your mind, would today's date suffice?"

"Maybe I like having someone around," Tony shrugged, not managing to come off quite as gruff and sarcastic as he'd meant to.

"Is this a Pepper thing?" Clint observed.

"No, it's not," Tony snapped, something about the way Clint said it striking a nerve.

Like he expected Tony to be a quivering wreck because he and Pepper had broken up, even though it was months in the past. Like Tony was some emotional mess ready to fall apart at any moment. Okay, so sure, he was a little lonely; he lived in a giant, empty Tower with no one but JARVIS and his bots for company, it wasn't that much of a fucking surprise.

He didn't miss Pepper in a romantic sense, not anymore, but that didn't mean he wasn't lonely. He did too have a heart, no matter what assholes like Clint Barton thought. Clint had Natasha and Coulson and all those other SHIELD idiots he lived with to talk to. Tony had Bruce popping in every once in a while, and Rhodey every few months, but…fuck it, he was lonely, alright?

"And you know what, Barton?" Tony growled, "Another thing, I'm getting real sick of-"

"Stark, on your twenty," Natasha warned, "Clint, let's hear some radio silence."

"But Tash-"

"I said silence, Clint," Natasha's instructions were a biting reprimand, and Tony had never been more thankful for her creepy mind-reading powers.

They managed a while in silence until the very tail-end of the battle, when the defeated worms started to disappear in flashes of green light. It was a testimony to how weird Tony's life had become that he considered that a 'fuck yes, I'm out of cleanup duty' moment instead of a 'holy fuck why are they disappearing' moment.

"Later, losers!"

Tony gave them all a mock salute before zooming through Midtown at top speed. He mentally calculated where Star Wars had been when he'd left and how long he'd been gone and okay, so Steve should be like halfway through the second movie now. Which was fine, totally fine, as long as Steve was still watching because Tony was tired and a little bit irritated and he really,  _really_ wanted to resume to that half-sort-of-cuddle-thing he and Steve had been doing before the stupid call to assemble had come in. Maybe if Steve was really nice-and, who was he kidding, Steve was always nice, ridiculously so-he would let Tony fall asleep on him.

"Hey JARV, is Steve still up?" Tony landed and walked the length of the landing bay, letting JARVIS dismantle the suit as he talked, "Has Anakin killed the Raiders yet?"

"Mr. Rogers is not detected on the premises, sir."

"What…?" Tony paused, visibly thrown, both by the fact that Steve had left, and because… "Why the hell didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"I just became aware of the fact…I believe my coding has been temporarily tampered with, sir. My last time stamp is from one hour and fourteen minutes ago."

"Shit!" Tony was racing then, through the room and into the elevator, jabbing at the button for the floor he'd left Steve on like he could make it move faster, "It was a fucking distraction, wasn't it? I bet that asshole Doom's got something to do with it, doesn't he? I'll skin him this time, I swear-"

Tony kept talking, his mind racing a million miles an hour. Of  _course_ Doom had something to do with this. The question was, did Steve? He'd been rather conveniently forgetful, and lord knows if Tony woke up one day, naked and missing his memories, he'd be  _pissed,_ superhero savior or no. Steve had seemed…serene. Happy, almost.

Like everything was going according to plan.

_No._

The thought was short and sharp, an insistent, edged intuition straight from his gut; Steve wasn't involved. The sky was blue and he was Iron Man and Steve Rogers would never, ever play him like that.

It was just that simple, and just that complicated.

Because if Steve wasn't involved, what was he? An innocent Doom had mind-warped somehow? Why had Doom planted him in the ocean then, gone to all the trouble of mind-wiping and whatever else only to kidnap him less than a day later? For the shits and giggles of messing with Tony? No, that seemed extreme, and weird, even for Doom, though Tony tried not to rule anything out when it came to supervillains.

The majority of them were certifiably insane, after all.

"Steve? Steve? Steven!"

Tony was calling Steve's name as soon as the elevator opened, but he knew it was pointless. He was out of the elevator in split second anyway, still calling, still hoping against everything that JARVIS had a glitch. Glitches he could handle. A talented hacker, even. Give him problems and wires and coding any day of the week. People…people were difficult.

People left.

Tony closed his eyes as he walked into the living room. He could see it perfectly; Steve, scrawny body curled up into the corner of the couch, head propped against a pillow. Maybe he was trying to stay awake, waiting for Tony to come back and finish their movie night. Maybe he'd even been a bit worried about Tony, off being heroic and whatnot. Maybe he'd be so relieved to see Tony alive and okay that he'd get carried away, tackle him with a hug like one of those golden retriever puppies. Steve reminded Tony a lot of a puppy; all bouncy energy and earnest eyes and eager smiles. Tony hoped for that, wished for it, came as close to praying for something as he'd come in nearly thirty years.

But just like last time, when he opened his eyes, he was still alone.

* * *

It was long time before Tony was able to sleep.

At first, the only thing he could feel was the lowest form of desperation. He didn't understand why; he knew the guy a day. A great day, of course, but just a day. He kept telling himself that, but it didn't stop feeling like a lie. Not even a lie, but a joke, something he should have laughed at. Because it didn't feel like a day. It felt like days, weeks, months, lifetimes and Tony  _knows_ he gets attached to people quickly but this was just  _ridiculous._

He came to the inevitable conclusion that there was absolutely no possible way he had only known the man a day, so he worked with that, combined his need to understand the situation with his absurdly desperate need to find Steve into a manic, frantic sort of energy.

First, he called Coulson. Coulson answered as exasperatedly cordial as ever, but he became strangely gentle when Tony told him Steve was gone. Tony should've appreciated that, but he didn't, so he went off the handle and started ramble-yelling about things. Of course, this didn't throw Coulson off the trail even slightly, because Tony was 84% convinced he had the same freaky mutant mind-reading powers no one would ever convince him Natasha didn't have. In the end, Tony ran out of breath long enough for Coulson suggest that Steve might have regained his memories and simply chosen to leave on his own, so naturally Tony screamed something about Watergate and Area 51 before hanging up in a huff.

He spent the next seven hours dismantling JARVIS entirely, examining every single line of his coding for tampering, to no avail. There was nothing, not a single trace of anything wasn't entirely Tony's doing, which meant that there was a good 93% chance there was magical interference, something that only served to infuse Tony's desperation with anger.

Tony  _hated_ magic.

There was nothing else he could do for now, and it was driving him crazy. He was too wound up to sleep, despite the late-well, now early-hour. He considered calling Pepper, but he knew how that conversation would go, and it wasn't what he needed right now. Weirdly enough, he was dialing Natasha before he could really think about why he was doing it or how many different ways waking up a formerly-Russian superspy who could kill him purely with the power of her eyes at four in the morning was a bad idea.

"Stark."

It wasn't quite a greeting and it wasn't quite a dismissal, so Tony took it.

"Steve's been kidnapped and JARVIS doesn't have any footage so Coulson thinks he just got his memories back and left but I  _know_  he didn't and I don't know how to prove it."

"I'll be over soon," Natasha didn't miss a single beat. There was long moment before Tony could bring himself to respond.

"You believe me?"

"Of course, дурак."

Her voice was as clinical and straight-forward as ever, but he had only ever heard her use that word in reference to Clint, and once to Coulson. It was the day they visited him in recovery, the first time they'd seen him since they'd discovered he was alive. Natasha had sat next to him, said that word, then gripped his hand so tightly it turned white and his monitor made a beeping sound and none of them said a single word about it, not even fearless Coulson or stupid Clint.

"Natasha, I, uh…thanks."

Thanks didn't even begin to cover it. Tony was panicking; he hated magic, he hated not knowing things, and it turned out he  _really_ didn't like people kidnapping his houseguests. Knowing Natasha would help him find Steve…Tony's mind was still racing, but knowing Natasha was coming was a soothing sort of comfort. She was capable and efficient and exactly what he needed right now.

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment he thought she'd hung up before she answered, quiet and brief.

"You're welcome."

The line went dead, and Tony spun around in his chair, steeling his fingers in thought.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Translate, uh," Tony paused, fumbling the pronunciation something awful, "Dur…durik? Durak?"

"дурак?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Technically speaking the translation would be along the lines of fool, or idiot."

"That's…" Tony paused, then snorted, "Not surprising. Technically, you said?"

"Yes. Colloquially, it's a term used with great affection, tending to have the connotation of possession."

"Possession?"

"I believe Agent Romanov was referring to you as her idiot, sir."

"That's…" Tony stopped spinning in his chair, and instead examined his shoes intently, "Huh."

"Sir, if I might make a suggestion?"

"Uh, yeah. Shoot."

"You should inform Agent Romanov of your and Mr. Roger's previous acquaintance. She might be more able to help you find him if you give her the full picture."

Tony froze.

"What?"

"Mr. Rogers is who you've been meeting with nightly for the past few months, is he not?"

" _What?"_ Tony had to grab the edge of the table to keep himself from falling off his chair, "What do you mean?"

"You never said so directly, but that was the conclusion I'd come to. Am I incorrect?"

"I…I haven't been meeting with anyone. Have I?" Tony frowned.

"My records indicate that for the past few months you've been leaving the building every night and returning in the morning. I have footage of you admitting such meetings to Miss Potts, though you wouldn't give her a name."

"What the  _fuck_ is going on around here?" Tony rubbed his forehead in aggravation.

"Sir?"

"Play it, JARV," Tony waved a hand.

A large holoscreen appeared, and a bedraggled looking Tony stumbled into the kitchen.

 _"Why do you always manage to remember a shirt, and never pants?"_ the holographic Pepper rubbed her forehead with a sigh as Tony slid into the kitchen on his socks.

 _"I'm an eccentric genius?"_ holographic Tony offered.

_"That's not always going to work, you know."_

_"Maybe not, but I've got a mission to get to and pants aren't really necessary under the suit. Can I drink while you talk?"_ holographic Tony was already pushing past Pepper to make grabby hands at the coffee machine. Holographic Pepper just sighed again, resting her elbows on the counter like she needed the support.

_"Tony, where the hell were you last night?"_

_"Asleep?"_

_"Oh really?"_ holographic Pepper's hands were on her hips now _, "So you didn't take one of the cars 'out for a spin' at 11 at night and only get back a few minutes ago?"_

_"Uh."_

Tony examined the look on his own face. In spite of the fact he couldn't even remotely remember this conversation, he could tell from the look on his face that it was true. So he  _had_ taken the car out at 11? Where the hell had he gone? And why would he need to be sneaking around at night?

Not to mention, why the fuck didn't he remember any of this?

 _"That's what I thought,"_ holographic Pepper answered smugly after a moment.

_"JARVIS, you muggle-hugging traitor."_

_"I was not instructed to keep your comings and goings private-"_

_"I'm going to dismantle you someday, I swear it."_

_"And who then would make you your morning coffee?"_

_"We'll see who's laughing Mr. All My Snotty Remarks Sound Witty Just Cause I'm British, I'll reprogram you with a Texan accent one of these days, don't think I won't!"_

_"You wouldn't dare-!"_

_"If I could interrupt your mildly creepy technophiliac love banter for a minute, I've told you a million times, Tony, if you're going to break the law, I need a warning."_

_"What?"_ the holographic Tony choked on his coffee, blinking widely _, "How did you know I broke the law?"_

Christ, apparently he'd been breaking the law, too?

 _"Well, I was bluffing in the vain hope you'd tell me I was wrong,"_ holographic Pepper pinched her nose _, "But now that we've got that out in the open, what exactly did you do and how much damage should I be prepared for?"_

 _"Okay, so it was vaguely illegal,"_ holographic Tony waved an unconcerned hand, _But not even like a grey area, just more…off-white. Their security was pathetic and I erased all the video footage, so it really doesn't matter anyway-"_

_"Tony, we've been over this, just because you have the ability to break in doesn't make it actually legal."_

_"Oh come on, security that ancient? They might as well have left the door unlocked!"_

_"Still not legal."_

_"Pep, I kind of have a world to save and all, can we cut to the chase here?"_

_"You've been seeing someone," Pepper's eyes narrowed shrewdly._

Tony watched his holographic face heat.

_"Don't be silly! That's, that's ridiculous, of course I'm not! I mean, I see people all the time, I see you right now, but I'm not 'seeing someone', not like that, of course not, I'm Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire, remember?"_

His holographic self was babbling, but Tony knew himself, and Pepper clearly did too, since she didn't look like she was buying it for even a second. Tony's head was starting to hurt; so he'd been seeing someone in secret, someone that JARVIS, at least, seemed to think was Steve. Then Steve was naked and memory-less in the ocean, and Tony can't remember ever having met him.

But.

He had remembered, hadn't he?

From the first moment he'd laid eyes on Steve, drowning in the dark, he'd felt that sense of deep recognition. Even after he'd shook it off, he felt it again on the beach, strong enough for him to bring Steve back to Stark Tower. He'd felt in the kitchen when they were eating, felt it when they were touring New York and chatting away like the best of friends, when they were watching Star Wars and he kept glancing at Steve's reactions instead of watching the movie.

He  _knew_ Steve, he knew he did, and this video was proof. Maybe not proof it was Steve, per se, but proof that  _something_ weird was going on.

 _"I don't know why on earth it involves breaking into places,"_ holographic Pepper continued talking, circling him now,  _"And I can only hope to god she's not some crazy criminal, but I can see it on your face, Tony. My god…you love her, don't you?"_

 _"I can not deal with this right now,"_ holographic Tony's face went only the slightest bit pale as he quickly downed the last of his coffee and called the armor to him with his wristbands,  _"The world needs saving and all that jazz, let's just talk about this sometime a little after never, okay?"_

 _"Tony,"_ holographic Pepper grabbed his wrist at the last moment, then, honestly _, "I'm happy for you. Really."_

 _"Well,"_ holographic Tony's words were clipped but his face was slightly flushed _, "Pepper, really, lives to save, aliens to defeat, teammates to show up with my awe-inspiring ass-kicking powers...I've got a busy day here, y'know."_

 _"Go,"_ holographic Pepper sighed, and JARVIS cut the footage.

"Fuck," Tony muttered, suddenly exhausted.

"So it is him, then?"

"Fuck!" Tony leapt off his chair with a clatter, slipping and nearly cracking his skull against the worktable, "Christ, Natasha, don't  _do_ that!"

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Natasha crossed to where Tony was, undeterred by his stunned reaction, "We knew, of course. But why didn't you tell us?"

"Okay, first, you're going to kill one of us one of these days,  _seriously._ Second, what the hell do you mean, you knew?"

"Did you think you were subtle?" Natasha rolled her eyes, "We know you've been seeing someone. We were waiting for you to introduce them when you were ready, but you never did."

"I…what? No, I…huh. So I'm the only one who doesn't remember this?" Tony muttered to himself, but of course Natasha heard. A look of something almost like alarm flashed across her face, there and gone in the briefest of moments.

"You've had your memory tampered with?"

"I don't know, I didn't  _think_ so, but…" Tony waved a hand at where the screen had been, "There's video footage of me talking with Pepper, and I don't remember ever having that conversation. And I haven't been on a date in…months, at least."

 _Two and a half months,_ his mind supplied.

"Two and a half months?" Tony repeated out loud, almost as a question, but Natasha's eyes narrowed.

"What happened two and a half months ago?"

"Fuck if I know. But I told Bruce this morning, I said I had a vibe about the guy, that I maybe knew him from somewhere, but I couldn't remember where."

"A vibe?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, questioning for more information.

"Y'know," Tony shrugged, "Just a…gut feeling type thing. Déjà vu, kind of. Like I should know who he was. And JARV says I've been sneaking out to meet someone every night, which I  _totally don't remember,_ by the way, not that that's fucking terrifying or anything."

"Sounds like that's going around," Natasha murmured thoughtfully, clearly thinking of Steve's memory loss.

"My first thought was that Doom was involved, that maybe he threw me into the ocean so I'd meet Steve on purpose, but…I don't know, is he even capable of wiping memories? And if he was, why would he do it only to reintroduce us to each other?"

"He values honor highly," Natasha reflected, "Playing with your memories for his own amusement doesn't sound like his style."

"No," Tony agreed, "But it doesn't take a genius to figure out who likes magic and would screw with me for shiggles."

"Loki," the corners of Natasha's mouth soured.

"That's my bet."

"Stark…" Natasha examined him shrewdly, "You look awful. Get some sleep, I'll start making calls."

"I don't need sleep, I need to-"

"What are you going to do here you haven't already done?" Natasha interrupted, and Tony had to pause, because, well. It was kind of true.

"Pace?"

That earned him the slightest of quirked lips.

"You called me because you needed my help, yes? So let me."

As it turned out, it was really hard to tell a deadly superspy no. So Tony ended up wandering up to his suite, not even brushing his teeth before he stripped down and collapsed into bed, fatigue hitting him like a freight train.

* * *

When he woke, he was alone in a dark, vaguely familiar room. He turned around, groping for something, until the lights came on with a bright flash. He shut his eyes and raised a hand to block out the light, and when he opened his eyes the room had faded and he was underwater. He breathed in, steady and deep.

_Tony?_

He knew that voice. It was familiar, it was home, and Tony tried to move for it but found himself stuck, pinned down. He looked down to see what was holding him back, and saw that instead of legs he had a shimmering crimson tail, gold edges fanning out from under the rock that pinned him.

_Tony, where are you?_

Tony struggled to free himself, bending down to try and lift the rock, shove it away, but to no avail. He tried to call a reply, but found he couldn't make a sound. He opened his mouth and tried to shout, but ended up choking on water. He gasped and gulped and waved his arms and in a rush he was back out of the water, collapsed on a beach.

_Why did you leave, Tony?_

Tony shot up, trying to pinpoint the voice, but he couldn't. He tried to call back, but he couldn't.

_I needed you, Tony._

Everything began to blur then, and he felt himself falling, falling and turning and spinning in a relentless vortex of water. He was drowning and he couldn't breathe anything but water, couldn't see anything but the shimmer of cerulean scales, bright enough to blind him.

_I needed you, and you left me alone._

_I didn't, I didn't, I didn't!_  He tried to scream, but nothing came out. He reached out, and felt his hands hit something solid.

Everything came to a sudden, halting stop when he hit it, the hurricane disappearing, leaving him alone to stare at the man whose hands were pressed against his on the other side.

_I loved you, and you failed me._

Tony woke with a start, gasping for air and writhing in a panic to untangle himself from his twisted sheets. He calmed slowly, doing his best to take a deep breath as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. It was all a blur of water in his lungs and fear under his skin, all but one thing.

Eyes shone bright in his mind, eyes the frosted blue of glaciers and winter skies, cold and unforgiving as they drowned him.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony tossed and turned for a little while, but, unable to fall back to sleep, eventually gave up and dragged himself out of bed. He stumbled into the kitchen, blearily pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Stark, you barely slept an hour."

Natasha's voice cut through Tony's conflicted, troubled thoughts like a knife, and he leapt up, dropping his steaming hot cup of coffee.

" _Fucking_ hell!"

A hand shot out and caught his cup, though it wasn't Natasha's.

"Clint?"

"Watch it, clumsy," Clint grinned, passing him back his coffee.

"You two are going to kill me, I swear to god," Tony swore, then, turning to face his surprisingly full kitchen, "Uh. Hi?"

"Morning," Bruce raised his cup of tea in greeting.

"Good Morn, Anthony!" Thor added jovially, and, seeing how Bruce greeted Tony, raised his half-eaten box of poptarts to mimic Bruce's gesture.

"It's not morning," Tony grumbled, "It's still dark out. What the hell are all of you doing in my house?"

"I called them in," Natasha crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter next to the stove, where a batch of scrambled eggs were sizzling away, "Now why haven't you slept?"

"I did. Some. Guess I wasn't that tired," Tony shrugged off-casually, though she could see the lines of tension in his shoulders, the weariness in his eyes. Tony diverted the topic, and she let him, "What'd she have to do to get you all here, anyway?"

"She didn't have to do anything, Tony," Bruce answered simply, "We came to help you."

"They came to help," Clint jerked a thumb at Bruce and Thor, who sat at the kitchen table, "I came because I was threatened with high volumes of electricity."

"She threatened to taser you? Is that like a SHIELD thing, or what?"

"Tazing is a SHIELD thing. Cattle prods are more her style," Clint hopped up on the kitchen island with a grin.

"Ah," Tony snorted, "Of course they are."

"SHIELD brother Clint does jest," Thor boomed, "We came but to help you in your time of need! I know that would someone take my beloved, I too would be unable to rest-"

"Why does everyone keep  _saying_ that?" Tony groaned, joining them at the table, "I told you, I don't remember seeing anyone, much less 'beloving' someone. Is that even a word?"

"No," Bruce answered with a chuckle, then frowned in question, "But Natasha says your memory has gaps?"

"Well…sort of. I don't remember a conversation with Pepper JARVIS has video proof of, or that I've apparently been meeting with someone, but JARVIS has already been messed with once-"

"Okay," Clint interrupted, raised his hand, "Can I make a motion? I'm making a motion. I vote we stop calling it 'meeting with' or 'seeing' someone and just call it what it is, you've totally been dating the guy."

"But who's to say I was?" Tony pressed, "JARVIS just said I've been leaving, not where I've been going. Maybe I've taken up sleep-walking."

"You think you've been sleep-dating him? That's kind of creepy, even for you-"

"No, you idiot," Tony rolled his eyes, "I don't think I've been dating him, period."

"Why not?"

"I…" Tony paused.  _Because I could never in a million years deserve someone like him? Because he wouldn't date a fuck-up like me? And if he did, I sure as hell wouldn't manage two and a half months without fucking it all up?_ "I just don't think it's likely, is all."

"Hate to break it to you man, but unless you've discovered some new drug, you've definitely been dating someone. You've been happy and distracted and almost… _nice,_ " Clint whispered, like it was a swear word.

"Oh, fuck off," Tony snorted.

"Exactly! You actually joke around with me now instead of wanting to legitimately kill me."

"I distinctly remember threatening to do that just last week."

"Yes, but with  _humor._ "

"Maybe I've simply resigned myself to the fact that killing you would be terribly inconvenient."

"Admit it, I've grown on you a little," Clint tossed a spare fork at Tony's head.

"Like a tumor," Tony grunted.

" _Still want me?"_

_Like a drug._

" _How romantic."_

The words blind-sided him; it was his own voice and another, one intimately familiar. Tony's breathing stopped short, the memory almost knocking him back like a physical force. He gripped his mug with white knuckles, and it took a moment for him to regain his senses.

This went unnoticed by absolutely no one.

They thankfully didn't say anything, but Natasha rested a hand on his shoulder as she passed him his plate of eggs. About to refuse, he turned to tell her no, but the word curled up and died in his mouth at the look she gave him. He meekly accepted the plate forced into his hands.

"Eat or go back to bed," Natasha instructed, "You can run low on one or the other, but not both."

"Whatever, mom," Tony grumbled, steadfastly ignoring the niggling thought that it was a funny thing to say, since his own mother had never much cared one way or the other if he slept and ate with any regularity.

"My contacts say Loki's been sniffing around," Natasha joined them at the table, bringing them all back to the business at hand. No one mentioned Tony's minor panic attack, and Tony was left to be thankful once again for Natasha's freaky mind reading abilities, "Nothing solid on that front, just whispers, but we do have a witness saying they saw a tall blonde leaving Stark Tower around the time of the battle downtown."

Tony's heart dropped out of his chest. If he'd been considering eating the eggs before, he certainly didn't have the stomach for it now.

"They saw him…leave?"

"Yes and no," Natasha sighed.

"They saw a tall blonde man leave," Bruce sipped at his tea, "But they also described him as the 'most beautifully sculpted Adonis they'd ever seen', and, uh, well…"

"Aaand no offense to your loverboy, but he's kinda scrawny," Clint finished, "He's got a pretty face and I'm sure he's got a heart of gold and all, but he's not exactly a walking Greek god."

_His face was open and honest, with a chiseled jaw and soft blonde hair. His body was like that of a Greek god, impossibly toned and utterly perfect. He swam forward, his sculpted arms jettisoning him through the water and to the front of the tank in two clean, easy strokes. His tail flickered behind him, clear fins ribboning, cerulean scales shimmering over what was clearly muscle. He examined them all cautiously, bright blue eyes that matched his scales blinking curiously. He locked eyes with Tony, and Tony's world stopped spinning completely._

"Right," Tony swallowed hard, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. The second flash of memory hit him like a sucker punch, reminding him too much of the fragments he could remember of his nightmare, "Well."

"Stark?" Natasha's eyes narrowed, not missing a thing. Once was dismissible, twice was not.

"Forget it, it's just…like I said, I couldn't sleep well," Tony shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

The others each looked differing levels of disbelieving and sympathetic, but Clint just hopped off the counter.

"Welp, that's why I'm here, you and me are gonna go a few rounds in the gym."

"Is there a more no-sounding word than no?"

"Shut up, jerkoff," Clint punched Tony in the shoulder, "Look; can you sleep?"

"Well, no-"

"Is there anything you can do to find this guy that we can't?"

"I guess not, but-"

"Do you enjoy just sitting around while someone you care about is in danger?"

"Fuck you, Barton, of course I don't-"

"You can't sleep, you can't help, and don't tell me that doesn't make you pissed as all hell. So c'mon, let's fight it out. Tell you what, I'll even let you get a hit in or two," Clint winked.

"Fine," Tony took one last gulp of coffee and a meager bite of scrambled egg, "If only to wipe that arrogant grin off your ugly mug."

"That's the spirit," Bruce chuckled.

"And what're you all going to do?" Tony glanced back at them.

"It's early yet," Natasha answered, "We're still sorting out all the information and brainstorming a plan of attack."

"Once the sun's up, I'll call Agent Coulson in as well," Natasha added.

"Figured it wouldn't hurt if we let him get his eight hours beauty sleep before we call in the big guns," Clint sniggered.

"If it's so early, then why are  _you_  all here?" it was meant to be a gruff jibe, but they all heard the honest question hidden underneath.

"We would assemble at any hour to help you in your time of need, Anthony," Thor stood, laying a mighty hand on Tony's shoulder, "We are your friends. Trust in us, as we do in you."

"Yeah, we're a team, you assclown," Clint grabbed Tony, hauling him away and into a headlock, "Now c'mon, it's about time I kicked that battery-powered ass of yours."

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's not a  _battery,_ featherbrain, it's a clean energy source powering an electromagnetic-"

With Tony successfully distracted and the two of them headed for the gym, Thor returned to his seat and Natasha began to review the facts. Bruce interjected with theories here and there, while Thor listened with great intensity. They'd learned not to mistake his enthusiasm for foolishness; he could be as insightful as any of them when it came to planning and battle strategy.

With his easy-going, optimistic outlook on life, it was often easy to forget he was a god that had led whole armies to victory for centuries.

When sun was finally beginning to rise, Natasha stepped out of the kitchen to open her cell and hit speed dial.

"It's Romanov," Natasha announced without preamble the moment she heard Phil pick up, "I'm calling in that favor."

"This is about Stark, isn't it?"

"You're always saying you want us to act like a team," Natasha reminded him, "Teammates support each other."

"You know as well as I do that Rogers probably got his memories back, realized he was in an essential stranger's house, and hit the road."

"We're not so sure they were strangers."

" _We?_  Is this why Barton didn't show up for his five am patrol shift?"

"Does Barton ever show up when he's assigned early morning patrols?" Natasha shrugged, though inside she was rolling her eyes. No wonder Clint had been so easy to convince, "And Stark's been mooning over someone for months, are you telling me that slipped your notice?"

"Of course I noticed," Phil sighed, "That doesn't mean it's the same guy. Stark said himself he'd never seen Rogers before pulling him out of the ocean."

"When he's not just screwing around, Stark's a serial monogamist," Natasha pointed out, "He wouldn't cheat on whoever it is he's been seeing, unless he didn't remember he'd been seeing them."

"It's too early in the morning for conspiracy theories."

"It isn't a conspiracy theory. Stark's memory has some pretty wide gaps, and JARVIS has nearly two hours' worth of footage missing. It's not a huge leap to assume he was taken offline so he wouldn't alert Tony while we were distracted downtown."

"So he's Tony, now, Agent Romanov?"

She heard the amusement clear in Phil's voice, and though she berated herself for the slip, didn't miss a beat.

"He's a teammate. We would appreciate SHIELD's assistance, but we've all gone it alone before and we'll be working to track Rogers down with or without your resources."

"No need to go on the defensive, you know I'm coming," Phil sighed, a burst of static over the line, "God help me, I already stayed up half the night after his phone call to program the satellite search for Rogers' image, and put out a BOLO alert with the local police."

It didn't take much imagination to picture the way Phil was rubbing his forehead; things involving Stark often got him to do so.

"Right. Well, I'll be there shortly to help in person," Phil paused momentarily, debating something, then, "Did he sleep last night?"

"Briefly," Natasha sighed, "But not well."

"Get him to eat something. Then have Clint spar with him, get some of the frustration out somehow. Don't let him hole up in that lab of his, he'll brood."

"Don't I know it."

Somewhere along the line, things with Tony had shifted. Not just for Natasha, but for all of them. She still wasn't entirely sure if Tony had changed or if they'd simply learned to see him better, but either way, Tony was more than a teammate to them. They cared about the crazy idiot, even Phil, no matter what he said.

"Now, what's this about memory tampering? That's new."

"He's spotty on that," Natasha reported thoughtfully, "We don't know when or how it was altered, and he's not even entirely convinced it has been. But we think it goes back a couple months, and we're operating on the assumption that his memory loss is centered around Rogers, since that seems to be the only information he's forgetting."

"You're sure Rogers is the boyfriend we've heard so little about?"

"It has yet to be actually confirmed that they're the same person," Natasha admitted, "But all logic says yes."

"It's as good an assumption as any," Phil conceded, "We can't keep calling this guy The Mystery Friend forever. We'll find out if we're wrong soon enough. I'm coming up the walkway, you might have to open the door for me. I'm pretty sure Stark disabled my access after last time, and it's too early in the morning to be blowing up his front door."

"Right," Natasha nodded and disconnected.

* * *

"Fuck you, Barton, that  _totally_ counts as a win!"

"Are you mental? It does not!"

"It's not my fault you can't keep your eyes from wandering," Tony hummed gleefully, lifting the rope to exit the arena.

"You asked why Natasha was shirtless, of course my eyes wandered, I'm not dead!" Clint chased after him, hopping up and over the rope instead of ducking like a normal human being.

"It's called misdirection," Tony chastised, grabbing his water bottle and taking a long gulp before continuing, "And you call yourself a spy."

"Let's go another round and see who's laughing then, old man."

"So defensive," Tony grinned, "Y'know, this whole love affair thing you've got going on with the deadliest woman alive is kinda hot, in a terrifying sort of way. Really, if I wasn't so busy being worried for your sanity, I'd almost envy you."

"That's not, uh," Clint paused, looking ever so slightly hesitant in a way Tony had never seen the archer look before, "Not actually a thing. I know you guys assume it, but. Y'know. It's not."

"You want it to be though," Tony guessed, tossing Clint a towel.

"I dunno," Clint shrugged him off, "She's kind of got that whole…vibe, about her, y'know?"

"The whole 'if you think about touching me like that I'll strangle you with your own intestines' vibe? Yeah, I get that."

"No, you idiot," Clint cuffed him, and Tony laughed, "It's…complicated, I guess. We've slept together on missions a lot over the years, and we're already so close, and it just…the lines get blurred around the edges. It's hard to tell what's us and what's a mission."

"This is going to sound novel, coming from me," Tony answered after a moment, after making sure Clint was finished talking, "But maybe you should talk to her about it. She might appreciate a little straight-forwardness in her life for once."

"Um, yeah, what was that you were saying a minute ago about her strangling me with my own intestines if I touched her?"

"No, she would strangle  _me_ with my own intestines if I touched her," Tony grinned, "After I took an arrow to the knee, probably."

"No, come on," Clint protested with a smirk, "I'm way more symbolic than that. Touch her, and the arrow goes through your hand."

"Naturally," Tony chuckled, "Well, if it makes you feel better, I think she'll only choke you lightly."

"Kinky," Clint winked.

"There you go," Tony clapped a hand on his back, "Now you're sounding like the usual perverted dick I know."

"Thanks, asshole."

"You can repay me by never, ever telling me  _anything_ about your sex life."

"No promises," Clint shot him a fox-like grin.

"Keep in mind that if you tell me anything and she finds out, she'll probably cut your dick off," Tony pointed out rationally.

"Alright, okay, I promise, Jesus. You're a morbid little fuck, you know that?"

"Of course, I-oh fuck, it's almost nine!"

"Go us?"

"No, shit, I've got a meeting-fuuuck, Pepper's going to  _kill_ me, I promised I'd actually make this one, I've gotta go," Tony rushed to get to the door, "But hey, you hear anything, or if Steve shows up, tell them to call me. I'll just pull the 'I'm-an-Avenger-and-I-have-to-save-the-city card and even Pepper won't stop me."

"Yeah, alright."

"Hey, I'm serious," Tony hung back, looking Clint dead in the eyes, "Promise me, you'll call?"

"Stark-"

"If Natasha was missing," Tony challenged, "Would you be able to think about anything else?"

"Tony," Clint promised, "We'll call, okay? Go."

Tony was dressed and headed up to the top floor of StarkIndustries in fifteen minutes, making him only five minutes late. Considering his general track record, all in all it wasn't that bad.

Pepper glared at him as he slipped into the room anyway, probably because this was the first meeting he'd attended in at least three weeks.

"Now that the Head of R&D is here, we can jump in. Tony, have you started development on the Atwell contract yet?"

The meeting passed in a blur of talking heads and ridiculous demands. Tony found even harder to focus than usual, and ended up making little Steve doodles all over his paper. He didn't notice when they finished, not until Pepper snatched up his paper and examined it with a sigh.

"Mermen, Tony? Really?"

"What?" Tony blinked up at her, then back down at his paper. He hadn't been drawing mermen, he'd been drawing… _Steve._

His whole paper was covered with it. Steve, over and over again, but…different. He was more muscular, with edged scales over the lower half of his body and fluttery gills along his neck.

What the  _fuck?_

"And here you didn't want to go to that…what was it, 'some stupid aquarium'?"

"What aquarium?" Tony's eyes went wide, and he spin around in his seat.

"Very funny, Tony," Pepper rolled her eyes, "Look, if you're just going to sit around drawing that merman-"

"What do you mean  _that_ merman?"

"The one from the aquarium?" Pepper raised an eyebrow, "You're no artist, but I recognize the hair. Not to mention those pecs."

"What aquarium? Where? When?" Tony leapt up.

"Few months back, the Atlantis Marine World Aquarium, I believe. They had that new discovery," Pepper tapped his drawings, "The merman. Don't you remember?"

"That seems to be a recurring problem," Tony took back the paper, examined it a moment, then headed out of the office.

He was pulling his StarkPhone out of his jacket when he bumped into someone in the hallway.

"Oh, hey, sorry," Tony moved to get out of the way, only for the person to grab him by the arm.

"No, my fault," they said, and at their voice, Tony stopped dead.

_I loved you, and you failed me._

That voice.

"Steve?"

It was Steve's face, true, but…he was taller, his shoulders wider, and his muscles more defined. He looked different but familiar, until he met Steve's pale green eyes.

"…are you wearing contacts?"

"Must you notice every little detail?" Steve muttered, "Your affection for each other is bordering on sickening."

"What?"

"Nevermind that. Come along, we've business to attend to."

Tony frowned, confused and cautious. He began to back away, but then Steve's hand was on his wrist and everything was _blueblueblue_  and  _SteveSteveSteve_  and before anyone could notice Tony was following Steve into the elevator and out of the building.

"Now, lead me to where they've been keeping my staff."

"Staff?" Tony blinked, wide-eyed and simple-minded.

"My staff," Steve repeated impatiently.

"You have a staff, Steve?"

"No, you imbecile," Steve snapped with a groan, "I'm Loki."

"But you're Steve," Tony blinked, "I missed you, Steve."

"And here I was looking forward to your lack of wit," Loki disguised as Steve muttered, "Fine, sure, I'm Steve, missed you too, la di dah. Now lead me to  _Loki's_ staff. You can bypass the security measures, yes?"

"Yes," Tony smiled brightly, though he didn't move in any direction.

"My, you're simple," Loki observed with a frown, "Perhaps I imbibed a touch too much coercion magic into Steven's voice."

"…okay?"

"Just…" Loki rubbed his forehead, "Stay silent and lead the way."

"You don't want to talk to me, Steve?" Tony pouted, "I want to talk to you. I like talking to you."

"Still not Steve," Loki droned, "And you're still being ridiculously nauseating."

"You aren't Steve? But…" Tony gestured to Loki, currently shapeshifted, "You're  _Steve_."

"Silly me, and here I thought no one could be more daft than Thor," Loki gave a pained sigh, suddenly wondering if perhaps this plan was more effort than it was worth, "Yes. Fine. I am Steve. Will you take Steve to Loki's staff?"

"Sure," Tony shrugged with a smile, though he didn't actually begin to move in any direction.

Loki gave an exasperated groan.


	8. Chapter 8

It took an inordinate amount of time for Stark to lead him to his staff.

Loki didn't remember Barton being quite so…frivolous, but then, he supposed the spells were different. Barton's had been based through the staff, which was more about channeling your own intentions while maintain the captive's skills, capabilities and thought processes. Victims to that form of mind control were still themselves, still able to think for themselves to extent, it was merely their goals and loyalties that shifted. It was mind control in its purest form, and Loki delighted in it.

This, he was less than enthused about.

He'd had to use an older spell, one he hadn't used since his long past youth. It was a basic, rather simplistic spell, and frankly, after this experience, he would be averse to using it ever again. It had, however, required the bare minimum of magical energy, and despite his grand words to the merman, he didn't have much to spare these days.

Travel between the realms was incredibly taxing, and his so-called father had placed a magical restrictive on his powers. He'd been able to push a crack through the seal early on in his imprisonment, and the touch of magic leaking through had been enough to aid his escape. He'd had to hide out for months before he had enough magic in his reserve to make the journey to Midgard, and the trip had drained him nearly dry. Regaining possession of the staff, however, would make him powerful enough to break the seal and unleash his revenge upon the so-called Avengers.

Since his current capabilities, however, were little more than that of a child, he'd had to use a much more simplistic-and therefore troublesome-spell to get Stark to bend to his whims. Unlike his more advanced spells, it required a base, something to tie the victim to the spell caster. There needed to be an emotional bond for this type of low level mind control to work, meaning he would have to acquire someone else's body and voice for the duration of the spell, something that he of course didn't have the magic to simply steal.

He'd have to make a deal, bribe them with something they wanted to get their permission. It made him feel like some talentless sea witch, but he pushed such thoughts aside. As much as he loathed admitting it, he needed Stark; no one else would be able to bypass the security systems guarding the staff that would return his powers to him in full.

The blasted spell was specific, too. It required the emotional bond to be "pure", so to speak. Not in the virginal sense, but in the sense that the bond must be free from doubt or any sort of ulterior motivation.

At first, Loki had been at a loss; he'd trailed Stark around, using a combination of wits and minor invisibility spells when necessary, but he'd found no one to use. The Potts woman had broken up with Stark, and though their friendship seemed strong, there was a heavy doubt that clouded Stark's end of the bond. Romantic bonds tended to be most powerful, though friendship would certainly suffice if it was strong enough, but Stark possessed neither. The Avengers, along with soldier called Rhodes, visited relatively often, but though the friendships were perhaps strong enough, the doubt on Stark's end was once again unshakeable.

This plagued most of Stark's relationships, whether or not he showed it as such. Stark was untrusting, it seemed, and for a time this hindered Loki's plans. Then, Stark went to the aquarium opening, and Loki saw his chance. He'd heard the tale of Steven many years ago, the merman who could strike anyone dead with just a touch of his hand. More than that, he'd heard it as a loss Atlantis had long mourned, the loss of a soldier that was kind, brave, and pure of heart.

Perhaps someone so trusting themselves could sway even Tony Stark.

And, to Loki's both surprise and glee, he did. After the first time or two Stark snuck away though, Loki didn't often follow him. Their talks were long and tooth-rottenly sweet, and though he didn't like admitting it, he felt rather out of place hanging about and listening to such things, even if he was too far to see what Steven wrote in return to Stark's ramblings.

Seeing Stark leave in the Iron Man suit the other night, however, had peaked his interest. Upon following and watching the single most disgustingly sappy scene he'd ever had the displeasure of witnessing, he'd decided to investigate their bond for himself once Stark had left.

When he flew off in morning, Loki approached Steven's tank. He'd pushed and prodded a bit, pointing out Stark's flaws and failings; perhaps he'd even got a bit carried away, revealing more about himself than he perhaps might have liked. But Steven didn't budge, which irked Loki in a way he couldn't quite understand, since it worked perfectly with his plan.

Regardless, he moved forward with his scheme, promising Steven the world to get him to sign away his form, which the of course the fool did. And then, he'd given the lovestruck idiots a day. He didn't want to look too closely at why he done it, but…something about them intrigued him. It was their behavior, the way they were around each other. It was…different. Loki would know; he'd been mildly stalking Stark for well over a month.

Stark was…not unlike Loki himself. Loki didn't much like to think about it, but they have a remarkable number of things in common. Stark isolated himself, pushing people away while desperately wanting them closer. He badgered and provoked people to show affection, mostly because he was rather afraid that if they weren't angry with him they wouldn't bother with him at all. The behavior was more than likely a remnant of how he'd gotten his father's attention, another thing Loki found himself relating to more than he was comfortable with.

At least, they were similar when Stark was alone.

But with the merman…Stark was different. The merman seemed different, better, too, but it was Stark's changes in behavior that intrigued Loki most. What affected Stark might affect him similarly, and Loki wanted to understand Stark's motivations more.

Time did not allow for that however, and frankly, the merman was rather obstinate. So he'd cast a little sleeping spell over Steven and thrown him in the nearest closet, though the spell was ridiculously low level and wouldn't last more than a day or so. It mattered not, however, since all he needed was time enough for Stark to bypass SHIELD security so he could lay hands on his staff. After that, the merman could wake or not; with possession of his staff, he would have real, pure mind control over Stark, and it would hardly matter anymore if the merman was in play or not.

Unfortunately, Stark was being extraordinarily difficult.

They'd been making steady, if incredibly slow progress; Stark had said it was under lock and key in the Helicarrier, but that he knew where the Helicarrier was. That location was 'somewhere in the sky', though Stark could ascertain where if he suited up. He'd then started to head back to the Tower, but Loki had pulled him away, into a side alley. Tony couldn't be allowed to go back; as it was, the spell wasn't powerful enough to maintain hold if the real Steve happened to have broken free. Before he could tell Stark to call the suit to him here in the alley, however, the man was moving in with puckered lips.

"Cease that at once!"

Loki would deny to his dying day that his voice had squeaked. He hastily ducked, scrambling away and smoothing out his shirt where Stark had grabbed at it.

"You don't want to kiss me?" Tony looked greatly confused at this news.

"Of course not!" Loki made a face before he could help himself, then caught the startled look on Tony's face, "Right. I mean, ah, not now. We have business to attend to. I simply thought you might call your suit to you here, so we might track down the Helicarrier."

"Then kissing?"

"Eh," Loki winced, curling his lip, "Yes?"

"Great!"

Tony smiled brightly and pressed a button on a band around his wrist, stepping back and away from Loki as it assembled. The moment it finished, Tony scooped him up and took off into the sky. Loki gripped Iron Man tightly, not at all afraid of heights, but startled by the speed at which they'd taken off and the cold burst of air in his face.

"For Odin's sake, Stark, slow before you drop me," Loki snapped.

"I would never drop you," Iron Man's head ducked, and Loki detected offense in his modulated voice, "I'll always-"

"Yes, yes, you're deeply infatuated, you'll always be there to catch me, I believe I get the point," Loki rolled his eyes, "I should really know better than to start conversation with you at this point."

"You don't want to talk to me?"

"We're back to this, are we?" Loki gave a suffering sigh, "You are utterly hopeless."

"Hopelessly in love."

"One could develop cavities listening to you go on."

"I could go on with you."

"Now that's just contrived," Loki snorted, "Perhaps this spell has influenced your mental capacities more than I estimated."

"Huh," Tony blinked, clearly not understanding a word. After a beat, he just chuckled contentedly, "You're confusing, but I love you anyway."

"Oh, well that's just delightful. You  _love_ Steven," Loki sneered to himself, "I never would have guessed."

"Can I kiss you now? It'll be like a Spider-Man kiss but better cause we're flying!" Tony enthused.

"The lengths I go to for revenge," Loki muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Are beginning to seem extreme."

* * *

They were seated around the kitchen table, Phil on his phone with some bumbling idiot of a junior agent, Natasha and Clint engaged in a paperclip war. Bruce and Thor were in the adjacent rec room, Bruce reading and Thor watching a colorful documentary. Tony was still in whatever meeting he'd run off to, and there was nothing to do now but wait on intel.

That was when the thumping started.

With three active SHIELD agents in the room, it didn't go unnoticed. There was dull but consistent noise coming from the ceiling somewhere in the vicinity of above Thor's head. Confused and curious, they filed upstairs to investigate, the noise leading them into a guest bedroom and then a closet on the floor above. They opened it, Natasha bearing a knife and Phil a gun, to find a tied up Steve Rogers struggling to thump his feet against the floor. Clint was the first to find his voice.

"I think you're taking the concept of 'in the closet' a little too seriously."

Natasha moved to elbow him, but before she could, Clint was already turning away, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Tony's number. While he did so, Natasha knelt down to untie the bound and gagged Steve.

"What the fuck?" Clint exclaimed. When all eyes turned to him in question, he held up his phone, "It…he's not answering."

"Leave a message, then, and find Rogers something to write with," Phil instructed.

"No, you don't get it, he's not answering his phone," Clint stared at the phone in his hand, "He made me promise to call him."

"He'll call you back, I'm sure."

"No, like,  _swear_  to call him. Like, cut your palm, spit on the ground, turn around three times kind of swear."

"What kind of promises have you been making?" Bruce raised a concerned eyebrow.

"It was  _serious,"_ Clint insisted.

It was at this point Steve's hands were freed, and before Natasha could even get to freeing his feet, he was frantically gesturing for something to write on or with. Bruce, remembering how Steve and Tony had communicated yesterday, passed over his StarkPhone.

_Loki put me in here he's after Tony you have to go after him_

Steve typed fast as lightning then flashed the screen at them, panic clear in his eyes.

"Fuck you guys, I told you so," Clint stuck his tongue out.

"Romanov, call Potts, find out if they're still in the meeting and if not, if she knows where Stark's at," Phil dealt out instructions, "Banner, Thor, help Steve get out of that closet. Barton, try Stark's cell one more time. Rogers, type out a brief summary of what we need to know."

Bruce and Thor each let Steve throw an arm around their shoulders and they hoisted him up and out of the closet and onto the guest bed. Bruce undid the knot on his feet while Steve typed and Natasha and Clint made their respective phone calls.

"No answer," Clint frowned again, getting a bit twitchy.

"Pepper, it's Natasha," Natasha greeted, "Is Stark in the meeting with you?"

Steve finished typing out his explanation and handed it to Phil, who read it aloud.

"This is going to sound ridiculous and hard to believe but I was a merman. I don't know if you remember but you all saw me at an aquarium. Tony and I met that night and he's been coming every night to see me since-" Phil broke off from reading to groan, "Damn it, I  _specifically_  told him not to."

"I  _knew_ I recognized you!" Clint exclaimed, "Though, dude, no offence, but you dropped massive muscle."

Steve ignored Clint and gestured urgently for Phil to keep reading, but Natasha's exclamation interrupted them.

"An  _hour_ ago?" Natasha paused, then swore profusely in Russian, "Thank you. If you see either of them again, let us know."

"And?" Phil prompted when she hung up.

"Stark left with a muscular blonde man," Natasha sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples, "Good money says it's Loki."

Steve gestured wildly, insisting that Phil keep reading.

"Okay, where was I…right, Tony came every night since we met, then the other night Loki appeared and made a deal with me, told me if I signed away the 'use of my form' that he would give a chance to live on land with Tony. But he wiped Tony's memory of me and made me look like this, and unless I can convince Tony to kiss me like this before my three days are up, he'll never remember me."

"Well that's fucking cliché as hell," Clint snorted, "Who knew Loki was a Disney buff?"

"But why would he want to look like Steve, if Tony doesn't remember him?" Bruce questioned, and Thor froze.

"I may perhaps have an answer," Thor sighed gravely, "Loki did much enjoy a trick in his youth, when his magic was still meager as it is now. I know little of spells and magical things, but he used to take the form of one to control the other, through an emotional bond, of sorts…"

"Control?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, "Control how? Because Pepper said Stark all but skipped out of the building with Rogers' look-alike."

Phil's phone rang, ominously interrupting them all.

"Agent Coulson speaking."

He listened to whoever was on the other end for a very long moment, and though his expression never changed, it was his fingers that Natasha noticed. He'd begun to tap in a quick one-two motion against his side; it was one of the few giveaways Phil had. It meant something had managed to truly surprise him. The finger-tap seemed to mean his mind was racing, thinking of possible ways a scenario could go and how to deal with the fallout. In their line of work, there wasn't really time to say 'what, no way, what are we going to do?'; things usually just had to be dealt with, and fast.

He'd made the little twitch when he'd been told there was an extraterrestrial royal feud going down in the middle of Nowhere, New Mexico. He'd made it when he'd been told that his not-so-childhood hero had been discovered with a live and pulsing heartbeat. To her knowledge, this was the first time Stark had warranted a Phil Coulson finger-tap.

"Stark has a helipad, text me the coordinates," Natasha cocked an eyebrow at Clint, who had of course also noticed Phil's little motion. Clint shrugged, mouthed jokingly 'Fury in drag?', and Natasha snorted, "Slow him down best you can, the Avengers will engage shortly."

There wasn't a pair of eyes in the room that wasn't on Phil when he finally finished giving instructions and hung up the phone.

"Stark just overrode the Helicarrier's entire security system, the whole thing's offline. Cameras, locks, everything. He's with a big blonde guy and they haven't come across an agent yet that can stop them. Suit up and get to the roof, we're going in. If Loki gets his hands on what we think he wants, Stark's going to go from an annoyance to an high-level hostile."

 _I'm going with you,_ Steve flashed them the message on Bruce's StarkPhone.

"Not like that you're not," Natasha shook her head. Tony would never forgive her, or any of them, if they let Steve get in his line of fire.

_I can help, I know I can snap him out of_

"This isn't a Disney movie," Natasha interrupted, "If Loki gets that staff back, talking to Stark won't do a thing."

"Smashing his head into a metal bar though…" Clint hummed innocently, ignoring the dirty glare Natasha shot at him.

"That's true," Bruce pointed out with a hint of a smile, "I seem to recall someone else going after someone they cared about against advisement."

"And what if that's what Stark needs, a solid blow to the skull?" Natasha challenged, eyes hard on Steve, "Do you have the wherewithal for that? Or are you simply expecting him to meet your eyes across a crowded room and let the 'magic of love' do the rest?"

 _I may not look it, like this, but,_ Steve steeled his shoulders, held his chin up as he showed her the phone's screen,  _I'm a soldier, ma'am. I'll do what needs to be done._

"Well," Clint shrugged, "Worst comes to worst, if we run out options we can just kind of mash their lips together and hope that solves everything."

Natasha glared at him.

"What? It works in movies."


	9. Chapter 9

"Rogers, if you hold Thor any tighter, you're gonna choke the guy out."

The sound of Clint's voice buzzed in the tiny device in Steve's ear, and he flinched away from it, inadvertently clutching Thor tighter.

"It is fine, Archer, his grip does not constrict my airway," Thor relayed, his voice booming in Steve's ears.

He was clinging to Thor for dear life as the god flew through the skies. They hadn't been able to access Tony's helicopter, unable to hack through his security. Already on the roof, they'd improvised; Dr. Banner had "Hulked out" as they called it, hoisting Agents Coulson and Barton into his arms before leaping into the sky. Agent Coulson was using his phone to guide them in the direction of the Helicarrier, while Thor followed after the Hulk, Agent Romanov and Steve in his arms. Well, Steve was more in a full-body curl, his arms around Thor's neck and his legs wrapped tightly around Thor's torso, but Steve preferred not to go into semantics.

He was  _terrified._

He'd lived his whole life with the ocean as his home. He'd visited the surface, here and there as a teen and with increasing regularity as an adult-almost whenever he'd been given leave, the surface world had always been of great interest to him-but the ocean was his baseline, his point of reference.

This, flying through the air with nothing to hold him up but the magic of Thor and God's hopefully merciful grace? This was nothing he had ever been prepared to experience, and he  _despised_ it. It was terrifying and unnatural and the sooner his feet touched ground the better.

He couldn't imagine how Tony did this every day, though he thought perhaps being in something like the Iron Man suit might make him feel a little better. That, he thought, might almost be like swimming; your fins-or feet, as the case may be-didn't touch the ground, perhaps, but you were surrounded, encased in water or metal and kept comfortably afloat.

_Tony._

The thought ached like a sore tooth, worry drawing his thoughts away from the terror of his flight and back to Tony. Tony, who he'd finally had just within his reach, only to been taken from him thanks to mind control and magic and other such despicable trickery.

When he got his hands on Loki, super-strength or no, he was going to throttle that slimy bastard.

The Helicarrier, as they called it, was a massive, mechanical behemoth floating in the sky. It wasn't unlike the great blue whale he'd seen when he was just a child, colossal and adrift and utterly unfathomable to Steve's wide eyes. It intimidated the hell out of him, Lord knows he'd never seen a damned thing like it, but…it was where Tony was. He clenched his jaw, tightened his grip on Thor, and steeled himself.

He could do this.

"Why the hell can we see it?" Clint's voice again, the one Tony called Hawkeye-or Hawkass, or Legolas, or Katniss, depending on his mood and the context of his stories-seemed upset by this development.

"Stark disabled all security measures," Agent Coulson replied over the mechanical device they'd given him to put in his ear, something they called a com link, "Camouflaging is security."

They entered through the docking bay, and Coulson split off from them, saying he was going to the helm to meet up with Director Fury and Agent Hill to deal with the internal chaos. Before he left, he directed them to floor B20, room 13; that was where what Loki wanted was, and if they weren't there yet, they would be soon enough. It would be easier-not to mention advantageous-to lie in wait there than to try to pinpoint where in the Helicarrier they were now and chase them down.

They left the Hulk to guard the main exit and made their way into the depths of SHIELD HQ, while Natasha informed him of what it was, exactly, that Loki wanted: a magical staff, something that greatly enhanced his power.

"As Stark would say, it's Loki's glowstick of destiny," Clint chimed.

"Is that really necessary right now, Barton?" Natasha sighed, the lines of her mouth hard and worried.

"Someone's gotta make up for the lack of Stark snark around here," Clint shrugged. When Natasha shot him a look, he insisted, "Oh, come on. This is  _Stark._ It's not like we're not gonna get the annoying asshole back."

Steve shot Clint an upset sort of look. He wasn't sure how to feel about the way this guy talked about Tony; his words were callous, but he was grinning and his tone was light, jocular, like the men from Steve's unit way back when.

"Relax, toothpick, Stark's called me worse," Clint grinned until Natasha shot him a flat glare, at which point he seemed to…not quite wilt, but soften, "Tash. We're not going to lose him,okay? Even if we did, Stark would just drive Loki up the wall until Loki returned him like, a day later. Besides, that's what we've got loverboy here for. He can do his goo-goo eyes thing, and Stark'll be tripping over himself to apologize."

"It isn't so simple," Natasha's voice was formal and her face impassive, making her entirely unreadable to Steve, "If Stark can't even recognize him, what good will that do?"

"Maybe he'll love him enough to recognize him."

"This isn't one of your Disney movies, Clint," Natasha snapped, her words colored with something Steve couldn't hope to identify, "This is a very real, very powerful spell, and in the real world, sometimes love isn't this grand thing that conquers every obstacle."

"Sometimes…sometime it's beating their head into a metal bar until they remember you."

"Sometimes."

Natasha's voice was clipped and clinical, punctuated with a swift nod, whereas Clint's seemed nothing short of amazed, almost shocked, like he'd accidentally stumbled across the secret of the universe.

Steve, for one, was quite lost, and not at all sure how hitting someone in the head was supposed to be love, but Natasha seemed mollified and Clint seemed awestruck, so he figured maybe he wasn't the one that needed to get it. And, to be fair, Thor seemed just as confused at all this as he was, so he didn't feel quite as bad.

_I hate to interrupt, but do we have a plan?_

Steve flashed them Bruce's phone screen, and they all exchanged a glance.

"Most often, it is the Man of Iron who gives us some direction," Thor offered, "Perhaps the Son of Coul, when Anthony's plans are deemed unfit."

"Or reckless," Natasha sighed.

"Or insane," Clint snorted, then gave an off-hand shrug, "Even with him around though, we mostly improvise."

Steve considered this. From what Tony had told him about their individual abilities, a plan was already beginning to swirl in his tactician brain. The Hulk was no good at specificity; Tony said he and the Hulk were friends, which was good, but if Tony-under Loki's thumb, of course-attacked the Hulk too much, that could change his somewhat primitive mind…that was risky. The Hulk was a good guard to block off the exit though, since Steve doubted even the Iron Man suit could blast it's way through a Hulk.

Thor's strength was mighty, but he seemed far more in check of it; he would be key in containing Tony without hurting him, long enough for Steve to get a word in edgewise. Natasha and Clint seemed to have some unexpressed rage towards Loki, so if they went after Loki they would be most likely to hold him off while he and the others redeemed Tony.

If they could chase Loki and Tony into a room, he and Thor could pin Tony down and talk some sense into him, while Natasha and Clint held Loki off, while the Hulk blocked off the main exit…

Steve clicked away on Bruce's StarkPhone as they raced down the hallway and into the elevator that would take them down to the level Loki's staff was locked away on. Sixteen floors down, and Steve flashed his plan to Natasha, who shot him a calculating look, sizing him up a long moment before giving a brief nod.

"Seems Steve's been holding out on us," Natasha tilted her head in acknowledgement to him, "We're going with a full-frontal attack, chase them into a back room if possible. Then Clint, you and I are taking on Loki while Thor, you pin Tony down and let Steve get a crack at breaking him. Copy?"

The others nodded back their agreement as the elevator doors opened.

Loki and Tony weren't exactly hard to find.

"Imposter!"

Tony, eyes bright, strangely blue, had a repulsor aimed at their heads the moment the doors slid open, while a glimpse of blonde ducked around a back corner. Natasha grabbed Steve by the shoulders and shoved him onto the floor just in time for the blast to go over Steve's head and through the back of the elevator. Steve's eyes widened; those repulsors did more damage than he'd estimated.

Natasha was up in a flash, pushing off Steve's back with her hands, her legs wrapping around Tony's arm and flipping him. Tony slammed into the ground, the metal suit denting the floor. Natasha left Tony and grabbed Steve by the back of his shirt, hauling him away while Thor went after Tony. Tony rolled to avoid Thor's tackle, ducking and weaving and still sending repulsor blasts at Steve's head, shouting things like 'imposter' and 'fraud' as he did.

Natasha didn't even flinch, just pushed and shoved Steve around to get him out of the line of fire, until Thor managed to collide with Tony, his tackle sending them both through the wall and into another room.

Clint was already gone, darting by the wrestling Thor and Tony to go after the glimpse of blonde they'd seen at the end of the hallway. With Tony and Thor in the other room, Natasha grabbed him by the shoulders, her dainty-looking fingers pressing into his shoulder blades with impressive force. Her eyes bore into his seriously, and he got the sense she was trusting him with something.

"You think he'll pause. You think he'll recognize you, that he'll hesitate to hurt you. He won't."

With that, she released him and took off down the hall after Clint and Loki.

Steve stayed there a beat after she was gone, absorbing her words, then he was up and on his feet. It was good advice and he would listen, but he was a soldier, a Captain damn it, and there was nothing more worth fighting for than Tony.

Steve went after Thor and Tony into the side room, already covered in scorch marks from Tony's repulsor blasts. Thor had managed to get his hammer planted on Tony's stomach, and was now attempting to hold Tony's hands down.

"Man of Iron, desist this! You are not the warrior I have been honored to fight beside!"

"Let go of me! I have to destroy of the imposter!"

Tony squirmed and struggled, but the hammer would not be moved. He managed to get one arm out from under Thor's grip, sending a repulsor blast dangerously close to Thor's head. Thor grabbed Tony's wrist again and slammed it into the floor.

"I said desist! That man is no imposter, he is the real Steven, the one you seek-"

"Lies!" Tony squirmed, managed to break his other wrist free and smack Thor in the face in a loose punch.

Thor took it well, not even flinching before grappling to hold Tony's hand down again. When he managed to do so, Steve approached.

"There he is! Thor, you bastard, let me at him-!"

_Tony._

Tony didn't freeze, or react in any way at all, really. He continued to struggle with Thor, continued to call Steve various variations of imposter.

_Tony, please, I know you could hear me if you would just choose to listen-_

"Steven," Thor grunted, "I know not what your plan consists of, but staring at the Man of Iron does not seem to be effective."

Steve crossed the room and sat down on Tony's chestplate, just in front of the hammer. He grabbed the helmet and yanked, pulling it off to reveal Tony's face. Tony startled, his eyes going wide, then went even wider as Steve stroked a thumb across Tony's cheek. There was still a part of him that panicked, that found this simple touch terrifying, but there was a much larger part that reveled in it.

 _It's Steve,_   _Tony. You_ know _it's me. I'm not the imposter here-_

Tony's eyes lost their initial panic and shifted to fury as he bucked and squirmed away, doing his very best to throw Steve off him.

"Why do I always get the freaky, bad-touch villains? Get off me!"

 _Tony, please, I love you,_ Steve leaned in, almost close enough that his and Tony's noses touched, _Just listen to me, I know you can-_

"Steve!"

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Steve believed.

"Steve, help!" Tony continued to call, and Steve's throat constricted painfully as he realized Tony wasn't calling for him. He was calling for Loki, "I think your weirdo twin's trying to kiss me!"

Steve frowned, the pain and hurt of Tony's rejecting look settling low and heavy in his gut. One thing left to try…

_Sorry, Tony._

Steve's lips crashed down on Tony's, their noses bumping along the way and their teeth clacking together as Tony struggled to get away. It was graceless, forced, and the single worst kiss either of them had ever experienced. Suddenly, Tony went still under Steve; the spell was unraveling, and Steve, ecstatic, relaxed into the kiss.

Which was when Tony bit down viciously on Steve's lower lip.

 _Son of a-!_ Steve swore and yanked his lip away, ripping it open, and his mouth opened in a silent, pained exclamation.

He stared aghast at Tony, whose bloodied lips quirked in a rebellious, fuck-you grin. In spite of everything, Steve couldn't help the hot twist of arousal the sight sent through him.

"I'm Steve's, motherfucker," Tony snarled fiercely.

That didn't exactly help Steve's entirely inappropriate arousal.

_Yes you are._

"How macabre," a familiar voice drawled.

"Brother, undo your trickery at once!" Thor demanded, "This time, you've gone too far."

"I think not," Loki-tall, blonde, and entirely Steve-looking Loki-scoffed. He turned to Steve with a smug look, "Oh, dear. Did you truly think such a pathetic love as yours would be strong enough to break my curse? You're a rather trusting fool, aren't you?"

Steve snarled, low and deep, launching himself at Loki with wild abandon. Loki seemed surprised, but not off-guard; he swung his newly acquired staff around, smacking Steve across the jaw and sending him sprawling.

Thor charged forward, abandoning his hammer and going for his fists. He and Loki fell into a sparring sort of fight, neither managing to gain much ground over the other.

"Abandon this lust for revenge, Loki! You've gone too far this time, meddling in such things."

"What, this misguided little love affair?" Loki snorted, "He loved Stark, what else could he have expected but misery and betrayal?"

"What is your qualm with Stark, brother? You claim revenge against us all, but it is he you target, he you seek to hurt so thoroughly as to make him forget his lover-"

"It is of no concern to you," Loki snarled, suddenly defensive.

It was then that Natasha and Clint caught up, Natasha with a knife to Loki's back and Clint two steps behind. Loki gasped in pain-Natasha knew precisely where to strike-and dropped his staff. Steve, without a second thought, dove forward to grab the falling object. He snatched it, rolled forward, and spun around to wield it at Loki.

Blue invaded every shadowy corner of Steve's mind, sinking in through his fingertips and staining his veins. Blue-tainted images played across his mind; Loki, beat bloody and left for dead. Loki, bruised and mangled and pleading for his life. Loki, gasping and wheezing for air as Steve strangled the last of it from his lungs.

Tony, spell broken, rushing to him with open arms. Tony, free from his possession, alive and well and kissing him of his own free will. Tony, falling into his arms, saying  _I love you_ again like Steve yearned to hear.

Tony, his. Forever.

"That's quite a look, merman," Loki drawled, his usual smirk having faded to cautious regard, "What has she promised you?"

Steve coolly aiming the staff between Loki's eyes.

"Steve," Clint's voice was level, measured, "You don't want to go down that road."

_Don't I?_

Everyone startled but Loki when the staff acting as a projector of Steve's inner voice. Alarm was clear on Tony's face, and for some reason, it infuriated Steve.

_So now you can hear me?_

Images, brief and flickering and laced with blue, flashed across his vision. Tony, disgusted and sneering as Steve leaned in to kiss him. Tony, squirming to get as far away from Steve as he could. Tony, biting and shoving and rejecting him.

 _Hurting_ him.

 _Now you care?_ Steve snarled, whirling to aim the staff at Tony next, an irrational, painful anger bubbling in his chest,  _Now I matter?_

"Steven, you are making a grave mistake-" Thor warned.

 _No, Tony was my mistake,_ Steve interrupted, his voice harsh and loud and echoing in each of their minds. The staff pushed the perfect taunt to the front of his mind,  _Love is for children; isn't that right, Agent Romanov?_

"Who am I to decide?" Natasha's voice never wavered in spite of the jibe, "Before you picked up that staff, you knew with perfect clarity that Tony was your purpose; clarity about anything, right or wrong, is a gift. It's more than I've ever had, it's more than Loki will  _ever_ have. Don't doubt that."

Steve hesitated, the blue force in his mind releasing it's claws for a brief moment.

In the pause Loki surged forward, knocking Steve back and snatching his staff away. He whipped it around, holding it against Steve's neck tight enough to bruise.

"Ah ah ah," he chided at Clint's impulsive move forward, "Any closer, and I snap the little fool's neck."

"Steve," Tony's spoke at last, his voice breathless, "What the hell?"

"Quiet," Loki ordered, but even mind-controlled, Tony was never one to follow orders well.

"No! What the hell do you mean you'll  _snap his neck?_

"Silence, I'm getting us out of here-"

"You wouldn't do that," Tony wasn't looking at Loki anymore, his eyes glazing over in confusion, "You would  _never_ do that."

"Stark-"

But it was too late; Tony's eyes flashed, the strange blue bleeding away into Tony's natural coffee brown.

"Thor-!" Tony didn't even have to finish his sentence; Thor saw the shift and held out a hand, withdrawing his hammer.

Tony was up in a flash, a repulsor beam blasting right past Loki's ear. Loki ducked, his hold loosening long enough for Clint to grab Steve and yank, pulling Steve and the staff free. Natasha snatched the staff up, Clint dragged Steve away, and Tony flew into Loki, body-slamming the god into a wall.

" _Don't_ you threaten him, I will fucking  _end_ you, you slimy little  _bastard!"_ Tony punctuated each word by pulling Loki off the wall and slamming him back into it.

"Would you like a few more punches, or will that be all?"

Agent Coulson's voice interrupted them all, entering the room with perfect timing; Natasha had repossessed the staff, Clint had unslung his bow to aimed an arrow over Tony's shoulder and between Loki's eyes, while Tony looked ready to beat the ever-loving hell out of Loki.

There was fire in Tony's eyes, and he seemed to be seriously considering it.

"Stark?" Agent Coulson inquired coolly.

Tony didn't turn, instead letting his voice go low as he snarled in Loki's face.

"You and I? We are  _nothing_ alike. Don't you think that for one second just because both our dads fucked us over means I would ever,  _ever_ be like you. If you crawl inside my mind again? I will kill you. If you touch a hair on his head again? I will  _kill_ you. Use him against me again?  _I will fucking kill you,"_ Tony slammed Loki into the wall one last time for no other reason than because, frankly, it felt fantastic, "Do we understand each other?"

"Quite," Loki's pursed his lips, his eyes conflicted and his thoughts unreadable.

Tony paused, clearly fighting the urge to do more.

_He's not worth it._

Tony froze at that, then let his hands drop limply. Thor moved forward, grasping Loki by the arm and hauling him away. Clint's aim never wavered until Loki was completely out the door, and Natasha handed the staff over to Coulson. Tony turned to face Steve at last, emotions unreadable.

 _Tony, can you can hear me?_ Steve thought tentatively, hope bubbling in his chest.

"Yeah," Tony cracked a strange, relieved smile, "Yeah."

Then Tony was across the room, metal gauntlets fisting Steve's shirt and pulling, until he and Steve were colliding again, this time without the bumping noses and clacking teeth.

They still weren't exactly graceful-the rush of adrenaline and relief a bit heady at the moment-but Tony's touch was electric, his mouth warm and demanding. Steve's whole body suddenly felt like he'd been lit up, and he surged forward into the kiss. When they finally broke for air, Tony ran a thumb over Steve's split lip.

"Sorry about…that…" Tony trailed off as he got a good look at Steve. The look turned just a touch leering, "But not at  _all_ about that."

"About what?"

Natural, fluid as anything, the words spilt from his mouth instead of his mind.

"Did you…did you just…?" Tony's eyes went wide, and Steve's eyes widened in turn, "Oh my god."

"Oh my God."

"Oh my  _god."_

" _Oh my God,"_ Steve scooped Tony up in his arms, twirling him around happily, "I can  _talk!"_

"Oof!" Tony winced, "I'm delighted too and all but watch those muscles, would ya?"

"Muscles?" Steve blinked, only releasing Tony enough to put him back on the ground, not actually pulling his arms back from around Tony's waist.

"Yeah, muscles," Tony grinned, squeezing Steve's once again serum-enhanced bicep lightly. Steve realized he was now taller than Tony by a good few inches, and wondered how he hadn't noticed that before. Oh. Right. Kissing. That was wonderful, when could that happen again…but Tony kept right on talking, grinning widely, "How's that for a curse-breaking kiss? And if you think my lips are magic, wait til you see my-"

" _Okay!"_ Clint intervened, "And that's already so much more than I ever wanted to hear. Good to see you in fighting shape, loverboy."

"No love for me, asshole?" Tony grinned, giving Clint a rowdy shove.

"Not in this lifetime, dickwad," Clint snorted.

"Did it never occur to you to mention that your new boyfriend was a merman?" Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Wow,  _that's_ the first thing you say to me? I'm sensing so much love right now. Please, stop, you're smothering me," Tony rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"Please, we knew Loki was gonna end up returning your dumb ass anyway," Clint grinned, pulling Tony into a headlock. While to the others it looked like they were horsing around, Clint whispered, deathly quiet, "Even if you do give good advice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Clint released Tony, and Tony clasped a hand on Clint's shoulder.

"Good for you, asshat."

"You didn't do half bad yourself, fucktruck."

"Fucktruck?"

"It's new, I'm giving it the Barton-patented test run."

"Doesn't flow off the tongue too well, does it?"

"Not really. I'm thinking you're more of a dickmonkey anyway."

"Much better."

"Ignore them," Agent Coulson waved a hand, turning to examine Steve with a quirk of his head, "Steven Grant Rogers, yes?"

"He's got a brain, too," Natasha pointed out, inclining her head at Steve, before he could get a word in, "Today's plan was all him."

"You might survive Stark after all," Agent Coulson gave a soft snort, before turning on his heel, "Debrief in fifteen, children. You too, Captain."

"What?" Steve turned, blinking widely. When had he given the agent his rank?

"Captain Atlantis, wasn't it? The perfect soldier, complete with serum-enhanced muscles and a heart of gold?" Steve couldn't do much but gape, and Agent Coulson's lips gave just the slightest of quirks, "Oh yes, we've heard of you, Captain."

"Wha…how?"

The others seemed just as taken aback as he was, except perhaps Tony.

"Of fucking course. No wonder you wouldn't let me buy him," Tony grunted.

"You wanted to buy me?" Steve turned to Tony, mildly alarmed.

"To be fair, this was before we actually talked."

"You wanted to buy me for my  _body_?"

"I love you?"

"You're an idiot," Steve told him, but the effect was rather lost when he pulled Tony into another kiss.

"Good to see the touch of death is truly gone, then," Agent Coulson nodded, tipping his head in acknowledgement to Steve with just a hint of a smile, "Welcome to the Avengers, Captain."

Then he was out the door, leaving a cuddly Tony, a surprised but happy Steve, a thoughtful looking Natasha, and one quite startled Clint.

"I'm sorry, touch of  _what?"_


	10. Epilogue

Six months later, and Tony's not sure how he lived before this.

Supervillains still attack New York; supervillains will always be attacking New York. But Tony hasn't had to go it alone in a long time, and it's not just The-Tony-Stark-Show-Plus-Backup anymore, either. They're a team now, a real team.

They've started to trust each other more than any of them have ever really trusted anyone before, meaning they communicate and synchronize together better both on and off the field.

Tony, for the first time in his life, realizes he has a friend group, people he spends time with and who honestly care about his well-being without being paid. It's strange sometimes, but it's good, and Tony wouldn't trade it for anything because he's found that he cares about them, too.

Part of that was moving in together, though Tony never actually offered to open his home to anyone.

The day they defeated Loki, they suffered through a three-hour debriefing in which Tony gave a synopsis of his and Steve's courtship with input from Steve, Steve gave them all a brief history of his life and what he'd done for the Atlantian army, and Coulson debriefed about how SHIELD had been tracking Steve down for years. Then, Fury took over and went into how they were going to restructure Steve's image and promote him to the public as Captain America. Coulson had even retrieved and repainted Steve's old vibranium shield in more patriotic colors.

Steve was, of course, a given. After the meeting got out and Steve was finished being fitted for a uniform, Tony all but physically dragged Steve home and quite wisely never let him go.

The other filtered in bit by bit afterwards; Clint was first. He was rooting through Tony's pantry when he was promptly traumatized by Tony and Steve's entrance, pantsless and with hands in unmentionable places. Clint screamed, Steve managed to cover himself with the morning newspaper, and Tony chucked half the crap on the kitchen counter at Clint's head.

There was no actual discussion-unless Tony screaming  _what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen I'm trying to have a honeymoon phase here asshole_ counted as a discussion-and Clint sort of just never left. Natasha followed less than an hour later, two bags slung over her shoulder, one of which she tossed to Clint.

Tony had, at some bored, delusional point after the original Avengers coming together, built them each their own floor, so he didn't really sweat it much. Thor joined the following week, when after the newly-instated movie night Clint suggested the god just crash here since he had a floor and everything. After that night, Thor, much like Clint, just never left.

Bruce was harder to convince, never one to infringe on other peoples space, but about two weeks after Thor moved in his stuff mysteriously appeared in his Tony-prepped suite at Stark Tower. He kept insisting he would move out, that he didn't want to overstep his welcome, but every time he tried to start, his stuff mysteriously reappeared in his suite.

Tony, for the record, denied all involvement.

But Bruce gives in, because much like Tony, in his heart of hearts, he needed this, and they both love this new, strange family more than they would ever admit out loud.

* * *

"Hawkeye, if you're still in there, the buildings ready to cave," Steve tried the com for a third time, but there was still no reply, "Hawkeye! It's coming down, do you copy?"

A red and gold blur shot past Steve, dive-bombing through one of the smashed windows of the building. The building began to give out, Steve's heart going with it. Dust and smoke clouded Steve's vision, and he would've sworn he couldn't breathe until he saw Tony's bright, metallic form emerging not even a split second before the entire building went under.

"Is the building down?" Natasha asked from two blocks over, where she and Thor were dealing with crowd control, her voice frigid as ice, even over the com line. But then, StarkTech did pick up every last detail, "Did he get out?"

"Got-" Tony coughed, a burst of static, then, "Yeah, I got him."

"Ask him what the hell happened to him com," Natasha snapped.

"He says he lost it when one of the doombots clipped him in the ear, the fucking idiot, I've spent hours in the lab on those-"

"Stark, cut the chatter and get Barton up to the Helicarrier," Steve cut in tensely, "Then we need you back out on 5th street."

"Did he just call you Stark?"

Unfortunately, sometimes StarkTech picked up a little too much. Clint's voice was teasing, but there was a hint of honest curiosity.

"Oh fuck off," Tony snapped, "I saved your life, butt out of mine."

The rest of the fight went relatively smoothly, and it wasn't until they were headed into the mission room for debrief the little snafu was addressed again. Tony caught Steve's shirt, pulling him back into the hallway while the others filed into the room.

"Hey," Tony frowned, "What was that all about?"

"We have a debrief to-"

"Don't try and distract me," Tony snorted, "I invented distraction. You're pissed; why?"

"Tony…" Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I'm not mad. You just…you worried me. I mean, what were you  _thinking?_ We didn't even know if Clint was still in there."

"Oh. Well…" Tony couldn't help but chuckle, "I was mostly thinking if I let Clint get squished, Natasha would throw a hissy fit."

"And what if  _you_ got squished?" Steve pointed out, still a bit put out.

"Would you throw a hissy fit for me?" Tony poked Steve, teasing.

"Very much so," Steve took Tony's hands in his, "You did the right thing, Tony. I know you did; I'm  _glad_ you did. And I'd bet Clint sure is too. There was just a brief moment…the building was going down, and I couldn't quite get a visual…you scared me, is all."

Tony leaned up onto his tiptoes, pressing a quick peck to Steve's lips.

"Have I ever mentioned I don't deserve you?"

"Once or twice," Steve smiled, looping an arm around Tony's waist and pulling him back into a longer, more tender kiss, "Have I ever mentioned you're wrong?"

"Once or twice."

"What is wrong with you two?" Clint burst back out the door, "Jesus H Christ, we left you alone for like five seconds and you're humping in the hallway!"

"Remind me why I saved your life?" Tony disentangled himself from Steve long enough to glare at Clint.

"You have a room, seriously, the  _hallway?_ " Clint rolled his eyes as Steve and Tony followed him into the meeting room.

"Hey, I found you and Natasha in the closet around the corner just last week you flexible little freak, get off my ass," Tony snorted.

"Tony," Steve chided, a light blush coloring his cheeks as they took their seats.

"No, please, do continue to screw each other like rabbits, isn't that what the Avengers are all about?" Fury sighed.

"Sorry," Steve apologized. When Tony remained silent, Steve lodged an elbow in Tony's side.

"Ow! Fine, right, sorry," Tony grumbled, but there was still a hint of a grin on his face, mostly because he was attempting to play footsie with Steve under the table. Weirdly though, Steve was being rather unresponsive.

" _Okay,_ whoever the fuck you are, if your foot does not stop touching my foot I will cut it off," Clint leapt up, glaring at Tony and Steve in turn, "Hormone-crazed fuckers."

Ah. That explained things.

Tony tickled Clint's foot again just for shiggles, and this time it was Natasha planting an elbow in his side.

"I  _will_ cut your foot off, man," Clint threatened.

"Settle down, Clint," Bruce sighed.

"I do not understand," Thor frowned, "Does Anthony no longer require that appendage? I can assist with any such detachment-"

"Nope nope nope," Tony piped up, eyes wide, "I'm quite attached to my foot, actually, pun totally intended, and I'm gonna need it right where it is but thanks anyway-"

"Hey!" Fury knocked a knuckle against the table, "Hello? Am I running a kindergarten here, or what? Can we focus for all of sixty seconds?"

Tony just kicked his feet up with an indefatigable grin. Yes, his life was very, very strange, but he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
